Until I Wake
by EmbersOfAmber
Summary: When the Hawke family takes ship from Gwaren to Kirkwall, an unforeseen event changes everything. Aurah Hawke must learn to cope with the hand that fate has dealt her, and navigate a world of unchecked magic, power and greed. And one very angry elf. Maker help her. AU MageFemHawke/Fenris
1. Chapter 1

**I really should be updating my languishing stories, but sadly, inspiration has slowed to a trickle there, currently. I recently found myself replaying Dragon Age 2 (yet again...an amazing game made in such a short amount of time) and realized what an absolute cinnamon roll Fenris is in a friendship romance with a FemHawke mage, and from those musings, this story was born. Previously, I was always a pretty devoted Anders romancer, but I think I may have jumped ship to Fenris now lol. I mean, come on, who doesn't love a growling, snapping elf who turns into a completely besotted and devoted lover, murmuring his continued commitment to Hawke in Gideon Emery's golden voice with: "I am yours." I melt into a happy puddle of goo. :)**

 **All that to say...I haven't read many Fenris romance stories, so I don't know if this idea has already been done to death or not, but if you decide to give it a go, I hope it's interesting enough to keep you entertained, and thanks for reading.**

 **Also, the custom Hawke I use for this story has long, dark hair, the default blue eyes, and lovely, delicate features. She's a combo of blue angel/charming purple in personality, and has a tendency to blame herself for anything that goes wrong, then drown herself in guilt afterwards. Poor girl. ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

The moon was a pale crescent in the night sky, seen intermittently when the clouds parted enough for its faint radiance to shine through. Aurah Hawke sighed and dropped her gaze from the wooden latticework above that allowed light and air down into the dank hold of the _Denerim Dream_ , the stroppy little cargo ship with the lofty name, on which she and her surviving family had managed to book passage.

Fleeing Lothering and the blight had been the worst thing she had ever experienced, apart from her father's untimely death, but the loss of her younger sister during the journey was an angry, festering wound she knew she would carry for the rest of her life. Father had asked only one thing of her before the consumption in his lungs stole the last of his breath away for good: to take care of the family and look after them all in his absence. She had immediately given him her oath, desiring to grant him peace and firm in the conviction that nothing would harm Mother or the twins unless it was over her dead body. She had never been more determined, her belief strong that if she just willed something hard enough, it would come to pass. But already, she had failed spectacularly. Her youthful naivety and trust in her own abilities now lay in tatters, a bitter regret and sorrow filling her heart and mind with self-hatred and endless recriminations.

She drew a breath, glancing down to where she had picked one of her nails bloody, and forced her hands to still their unconscious punishment. Perhaps one day, she would allow herself to grieve Bethany properly, to go over all the years of treasured memories of their childhood together and cry actual tears for such a deep loss, but not now. Her family needed her to be their rock in this chaotic time, and that was what she would be.

Glancing over to where her mother slept soundly beside their friend, Aveline Vallen, a fellow Ferelden refugee who they had more or less stumbled into during their escape from the darkspawn, Aurah pushed to her feet and crept over to the far side of the hold. Her brother, Carver, had spent most of his time brooding since they boarded the ship nearly a week before. She stood looking down at where he sat until he shot her an annoyed glance.

"What is it _now_ , sister? Come to complain about the lack of washing facilities again, or something equally inane and difficult for your delicate sensibilities to tolerate?" he mumbled, his voice full of bitterness.

She settled down beside him, pressed near enough to feel his warmth against her side and chuckled lowly. "While I'm no spoiled Orlesian flower, I see nothing wrong with a little pride in one's scent and appearance and some basic personal grooming. And you must admit that what passes for a privy on this ship is disgusting by anyone's standards. Still, I'm grateful to be here. With the crowds in Gwaren, we were fortunate to get passage on anything."

Carver made a noise of annoyance. "Which we owe to you, of course, and the way you chatted up the first mate. I really don't think it was necessary for you to flirt with him quite as much as you did to get us on board. He's been watching you like a mabari on the hunt, which means I have to watch _him_ to be sure he doesn't try something stupid. Why do you always make my life more difficult?"

Aurah bumped him with her elbow, a small smile lifting her lips. "But brothers are supposed to protect their sisters and watch over them, and you're so good at it too, almost like you trained for it," she said teasingly, hoping to jolly him out of the dark mood he had fallen into.

He didn't respond to her teasing or her smile, and the silence stretched between them until Carver finally broke it, his voice low and full of a pain he tried to hide.

"Like I was so good at it with Beth?" he asked quietly, letting his head fall back against the wooden wall behind him with a solid thump.

Glancing up again through the lattice work as the moon appeared once more, she released a breath, her shoulders slumping. "You know that was my fault, Carver. You heard mother. If I had been quicker, or just..." She stopped abruptly, long enough to swallow against the lump in her throat, and only continued when she had control of her voice once more.

"It's my fault. If I could change what happened and take her place, I would, and I hope one day you can forgive me for failing you all." She could feel her brother's eyes on her, and when a determined tear escaped her lashes and raced down her cheek, she brushed it away hurriedly, dismayed when another immediately followed.

"Maker's sake, Aurah, I didn't think your martyr complex could get any worse, but evidently I was wrong." He sighed gustily and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him and resting his chin on top of her head. Carver smelled like sweat and home, and it was oddly comforting. She laughed mirthlessly and wiped at her tears again ineffectually.

"This is all wrong. I'm not supposed to be crying, I'm supposed to be strong...for you and mother."

He tugged on her long braid absently and she felt him shrug. "You don't have to pretend with me, sister. I know you feel as bad as I do. And I don't think mother really meant what she said to us either, she was just upset."

She sat quietly in thought for several minutes while her tears dried and finally smiled. "You've grown very wise during your absence, Carver. Why don't you be the responsible sibling and I'll be your adoring, ornamental sister?"

He shoved her off him with a snort. "Oh, shut up, Aurah."

Snickering, she shoved him back, suddenly thrust back in time to the days when she and Carver used to fight like cats and dogs, and smiled wistfully. Carver met her nostalgic gaze and rolled his eyes with the first hint of a smile from him that she had seen in days.

She looked at him, _really_ looked at him, noting the purple bruising of fatigue underneath his eyes and the tired slump of his shoulders, and felt protectiveness and pride well up in her. It had been a difficult time for all of them, but Carver bore every trial stoically, usually with very little complaint. She glanced over to where their mother and Aveline slept, her resolve strengthening. They _would_ make it through whatever challenges lay ahead and start a new life in Kirkwall, and no matter what, they would stay together. Nothing was more important than family.

Aurah wrapped her arms around one of Carver's and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know I don't tell you this often, but I'm proud to have you as my brother, and I'm glad we're together again. I missed you while you were away, Carver."

"Stop being mushy," he grumbled, making her grin again.

"Very well," she agreed easily, knowing how emotional displays embarrassed her brother, but felt it was important he knew how much she valued him. "But only if you tell me all the dirty jokes you heard in King Cailan's army."

He laughed. "How much time have you got? We may be here for a while."

* * *

Hours later, a loud, hissing sound woke Aurah, and she opened her eyes blearily where she had fallen asleep next to Carver, to see a dense, green mist had filled the hold. Alarmed and sensing danger, she tried to sit up, quickly becoming panicked when she discovered she could not move a single muscle apart from her eyes. Time crawled slowly by as she laid there and the mist gradually dissipated, struggling with all her will and might to move, but she could not. In desperation, she called her magic, faintly relieved when she felt the fade power move through her, lightning sparking from her fingertips. The sound of footsteps drew nearer, before she heard a loud, coarse voice above her, and a rough hand gripped her chin, turning her head to where she could see the man.

"Oy, Danzig! I found some good ones down 'ere. Better bring one of them enchanted collars, this one's got lightning coming from her hands."

More heavy footfalls and a bright light flooded the space and three more faces peered down at her, all heavily armed with weapons. The tallest man grinned, and if she could have moved, Aurah would have shivered at the cruel look in his blue eyes. Crouching down, he ran his hands over her, feeling her hips and breasts, and pushing open her lips to examine her teeth, as though she were a horse. Outraged at the violation, she called more lightning until it sparked across her entire body, shocking him and making him jerk back with a dark laugh.

Turning to a new man who handed him a metal collar, which he quickly snapped around her neck, Aurah felt her heart sink while it simultaneously tried to gallop its way out of her chest in fear as she felt her magic quickly drain away. He soon confirmed the very worst as he stared down at her in glee while he released her braid to examine her hair.

"Pretty, spirited, _and_ with magical talent," he told his comrades, with excitement. "This one is going to fetch me a very high price, and I know just which magister will want her enough to pay whatever I ask. He doesn't have much of a taste for elves, but I know he'll want a taste of her." He leered and squeezed her breast again, bold with her paralyzed and magic safely locked away. He stood to sweep his assessing gaze across the hold. "Now let's finish this up before the effects of the smoke wear off. Only take those that are young and healthy, mind. We don't want any cargo that's hard to move when we reach Minrathous."

He moved out of her line of sight, and not a minute later, she was hauled up and tossed over a burly man's shoulder that smelled like rotten fish and wood smoke. If she could have gagged, she would have. What little she was able to see disappeared completely as her loosed hair fell across her eyes. She was passed from one person to the next, and then carried onto a smaller boat, with oars, from what she could hear and smell.

An indeterminate amount of time later, she was lifted like a flour sack over another man's shoulder and carried aboard a different ship, although she could see very little of it beyond the deck and a glimpse of rigging. Down, deep into another hold, and her breath whooshed from her lungs as she was thrown into a large, hay-strewn cage, hearing the distinctive clank of metal as the door was closed and locked. The light retreated and she was left in the pitch dark, unable to see or move. Her heart pounding like a drum and the loud, frantic breaths that accompanied it were the only proof of life.

It was ridiculous. None of it could be real. There was no possible way she had escaped Lothering and the darkspawn against all odds, only to be taken captive by dimwitted thugs that smelled like a dung heap. The Maker would never be that cruel, would he? This was a nightmare, there was no other explanation. She would tell Carver all about it in the morning and he would call her an idiot and they would laugh about it. Mother would scold her for going to sleep on an empty stomach, likely citing it as the cause of such a terrible dream.

Yes, that seemed right. It was a nightmare, for sure. Certainly. All she needed to figure out was a way to wake herself up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

The elf clad in dark armor and cloaked in shadow, moved in quick sprints and sudden flashes of speed. His breath came heavy, but he was not winded, not truly; his body had been honed over years as a killing tool, and the night's exertions were not nearly enough to tire him. His pounding pulse and quickened breathing were the result of the rising tide of excitement and exultation, and the closest he ever came to the elusive feeling of happiness he had once tasted so briefly.

His blood sang in his veins and his lyrium brands pulsed as he cut down enemy after enemy, with the deadly sharpness of his blade _Celeri Morte_ , so named by his master, Danarius, for the swift death it brought to all who dared threaten the powerful Magister lord. As his slave and personal bodyguard, Fenris was required to use it often in the endless power struggles that went on among the members of the Magisterium. The latest foiled assassination attempt against his master had enraged Danarius, but with his usual cold calculation, he had bided his time and planned his revenge, and three months later, Fenris was now carrying out his will.

The dark of night was as nothing to his elven sight, his vision just as sharp and clear as the wolf for which he was named. The hyper awareness of his battle high was at a peak, the lyrium of his markings glowed when he phased a hand into the rival mage's chest as he attempted to summon a final, desperate spell, and yanked out his heart. The satisfaction of one less cruel magister on the face of Thedas a cold comfort to his own heart, devoid of all joy.

Once, the life of a slave and unquestioning servitude was all he knew, until circumstances had changed everything. He had come to curse his temporary separation from Danarius and all too brief sojourn with the Fog Warriors of Seheron who had taken him in when he was alone and wounded, and the half-imagined dream of a different way of life. They had awoken hope inside him for the first time in his memory, treating him with respect, concern...even kindness. Since Danarius had retrieved him from among them, commanding him to slay them all, he wished only to forget what he had done, before guilt and despair consumed him whole. Ironic, when he counted memories as precious and had so few of his own that were worthy of remembrance.

Fleetingly, Fenris had thought to run away and escape his master, and the terrible death he was commanded to carry out against the Fog Warriors. But Danarius, sharp as ever, must have seen something in his eyes, for it was then he told him that if he did not obey and return swiftly, his sister would ultimately bear the punishment for his actions.

Shocked and confused at the mention of a sister he could not recall, and knowing Danarius made no idle threats, all the resistance drained from Fenris. He did not dare to risk putting this sister, this previously unknown family connection, in any danger. A slave does not dream of freedom. A slave does not wish for a better life. And Fenris had never been anything more than a slave.

Shaking his head to banish the dark thoughts, he sheathed his blade. His task complete, he set off at a jog to where he knew his master's carriage awaited him a short distance down the road, for they had caught their prey while he traveled, and with only a light guard. A fatal mistake.

When he arrived, Danarius was standing expectantly and Fenris went down on one knee and held out the heart of his enemy in his hand, still dripping with blood. He spoke in the quiet, respectful voice he always used with Danarius.

"I have done as you commanded, Master. Here is the heart of Magister Septius."

Danarius smiled a sinister smile of satisfaction and waved a slave forward who was holding a small, ornate chest. Fenris carefully placed the organ inside and wiped his hand against the cloth of his trousers.

"Go and retrieve the body," he directed several of his guards, his eyes never leaving Fenris as he bowed his head again and awaited further commands. "I've decided to make a gift of the corpse to a colleague for her research. It's always desirable to have others in power owe you favors." He stepped forward and cupped Fenris' lyrium-etched chin, causing the markings to flare and the magister's smile to grow.

"Well done, my little wolf, as always. I was concerned for a time that you had been tragically tainted after your sojourn on Seheron among the radicals, but I am pleased that worry was unfounded." He forced Fenris to meet his assessing gaze, and the elf let nothing show in his eyes but gratitude at his master's praise.

"Thank you, Master. I live only to serve you." He dropped his gaze again, as was proper, but did not otherwise move, and Danarius hummed his approval and finally released him.

Stepping away, Danarius gave orders to the slaves and guards surrounding him, and it was not long before Fenris was in his usual seat on the back of the carriage, outside so he could keep watch for any threat from the rear, while the paid guards rode up front with the driver. He scanned the dark landscape as they rode along, allowing his mind to empty, hearing only the sound of the wind and the hoof-beats of the horses as they ran.

When they returned to the estate and he was finally dismissed by his master with an indulgent pat on the head like a dog, that made him seethe inwardly before he stifled it, Fenris walked to the well near the stables, as was his custom, to dump bucket after bucket of cool water over his head and remove the worst of the blood that clung to him. After, he went and thoroughly bathed with the cheap, coarse soap that was kept in the slave quarters and never failed to sting his markings, before retreating to the small room close to Danarius' suite. It contained very little beyond a bed, a stand for his weapons and armor, and a small table and chair where his meals were delivered. As the most valuable among his master's living possessions, he was afforded a measure of privacy and privilege that no other slave on the estate could boast.

Meals were brought to him, his clothing meticulously maintained, always washed and returned, and when he passed any other slaves while he walked alone, they nodded respectfully or stopped and bowed outright, depending on their position. Everything in Tevinter was a hierarchy, even in the narrow and harsh world of those who only existed to serve. If he were with Danarius, he was ignored, as was fitting, but among the slaves, he was the most envied as well as the most feared.

His status isolated him, for he had no equal and no comrades. Any free time away from the long hours of his duties was spent completely and utterly alone. It was what he preferred, and the one privilege granted him that he genuinely valued. In his more honest moments of introspection, he could not decide if he liked being alone because he truly enjoyed it, or if it was merely the safer, and therefore the wisest option.

* * *

Fenris scowled as he cleaned his blade, the sudden noises from the inner courtyard making him spring for the door and yank it open, stalking swiftly to where sounds of a scuffle were taking place amid the low murmur of voices.

"Be silent," he hissed, his eyes sweeping all the elves present as he crossed into the front hall. "Master is resting until evening meal and he will flay the skin from your hides if you wake him."

The house slaves ceased their quiet conversations and bowed to him, some turning to look nervously behind them at the true source of the disturbance. New slaves had arrived, and among the docile elves being escorted in, a human woman was being led off to the side by two guards, chained hand and foot and twisting, shouting and snarling like a feral animal. Around her neck gleamed a solid metal collar etched with magical runes and glowing faintly in the daylight.

A human slave was unusual enough in Danarius' household, his tastes having always run to elves, but not only was she human but also one obviously bound by magic. Why? She shrieked again, even louder, and let out a string of profanity before resorting once more to detailed threats.

"Get your hands off of me, you mangy bastards! I'll kill you _all_ when I get this Maker damned collar off, I swear it! I'll strangle you with your own entrails… I'll boil the blood in your veins! Let me _go_!"

Her strangely accented voice that marked her as foreign carried down the hallway and Fenris shot a concerned glance behind him before he quickly stowed his sword on his back and flashed forward in a burst of speed, his markings flaring brightly and causing the elves around him to gasp and cower back at the rare display of the power of his lyrium brands.

He jerked her away from the house guards and pulled her against him to subdue her, one hand covering her mouth and the other fisted in her tangled, matted mess of dark hair. Wide blue eyes stared up at him in surprise as he leaned closer.

" _Venhedis_ , woman! Cease your struggles immediately and be silent!" he snarled, tightening his grip in her hair until he felt her tense from the discomfort. He pulled harder until she went still and moaned in wordless protest against the hand covering her mouth and the metal of his chest plate digging into her painfully. Satisfied he had her full attention, he relaxed his grip on her hair only slightly.

"Where you have come from and who you were no longer matters. You are now fortunate to be the property of a Magister. A slave must know her place." His voice was low and menacing, his ire fully roused at the prospect of his master's anger if this woman were allowed to disturb his rest. In similar fits of pique in the past, Danarius had had all the slaves in the house whipped for the transgressions, real or imagined, of only a few. He bore the scars to prove it, and he would be damned if he would stand by and let this spoiled human bring punishment down on them all.

He shook her again as his green eyes grew even more angry at his thoughts. "If you wake the Master, he will have you whipped until no skin remains to cover your miserable back, and may decide I and the other slaves should all partake of your punishment. I will first take the whip to you myself if you do not cooperate, do you hear?"

She still stared at him wide-eyed, but when she gave a minute nod of her head to indicate her understanding, he allowed his markings to fade and slowly removed his hand from her mouth. When she did nothing more than swallow nervously and keep her eyes locked on him warily, he almost smiled. Releasing her abruptly, he stepped back, his lip curling in a sneer of disgust at the state of her and the nasty smell of human filth and wet dog that emanated from her. Turning to Teril, the elven foreman in charge of new slaves, he jerked his chin toward her.

"Be sure and wash this one well, lest her stench offend Master. Whatever he decides to do with her, he will not want her fouling the manor."

She stiffened in offense while her cheeks colored in anger or embarrassment, her jaw clenched tightly as she stared her hate at him. Her blue eyes were like chips of ice, and he knew if she were not bound he would be fending off an attack, making him smirk in dark amusement. But she made no sound and gave no further resistance, obviously having understood the seriousness of his warning. Good. Perhaps she had enough sense to survive in her new environment, after all, although he cared little as to her ultimate fate. Should she die, there would always be another slave to take her place. Such was the way of things, disturbing as those thoughts were.

The foreman nodded his understanding, muttering harsh curses under his breath as he assessed the woman with baleful eyes and herded the group toward the wing reserved for slaves. Fenris watched them go, a vague sense of unease making him shift from one foot to the other. He shook his head, fearing that particular slave would be nothing but trouble if she were not quickly brought to heel. Turning away, he dismissed her from his thoughts and walked back to his room, his mind once again on duties he still had yet to discharge and matters that were within his own province.

* * *

Two nights later, Fenris refilled his master's wine glass and set it on the table within easy reach beside him. They were in the south garden, lit brightly with lanterns and magical lights while Danarius watched the evening's entertainment from the ornate chaise he lounged across. On this particular occasion, it happened to be musical entertainment and song, but it might just as easily be a play, or two opponents battling to the death, followed by an orgy for the social elite. Magisters ruled Tevinter, and there was seemingly no limit to their many appetites and excesses, and the bodyguard had seen more than enough proof of their twisted hungers, having observed it firsthand on more occasions than he could easily count.

Danarius flicked his eyes to Fenris, and he approached him and knelt, so attuned to his wishes that a mere look was enough to summon him to his master. Reaching a hand out, Danarius called magic to his hand and watched as Fenris' markings flared brightly in response, smiling lazily as he trailed a hand down his bare arm. The markings were a favorite toy to play with, and through much practice, Fenris no longer flinched or showed any sign of the pain of the magister's touch, though he sometimes felt he would drown in his deep, choking hatred for magic. _That_ , he was ever careful to keep buried deep and well hidden from his master's watchful gaze.

Narrowing his eyes, Danarius watched Fenris for another moment before withdrawing his hand and reaching for his wine and drinking deeply. "I understand there was some excitement with the new slave's arrival, but you took charge and restored order quickly, even going so far as to promise the lash to the insolent one."

Fenris stayed completely still, even as dread coiled in his gut at the seemingly casual remark. As the silence lengthened, he swallowed down his reluctance and spoke hesitantly, uncertain what form his punishment would take. "Must I fetch the whip for you, Master?"

"Why do you think I would wish for the whip, pet?" he asked, his voice soft.

"For my insolence in daring to threaten your property. I humbly ask your forgiveness for overstepping my place, Master."

Ignoring the plea, Danarius drained his wine and then shook his head when Fenris made to rise and refill his glass, watching the elf closely for several silent minutes. "And what compelled you to take such decisive action against this new slave, I wonder?"

"To safeguard your rest," he answered immediately, his anger toward the woman rekindled. "She would not cease yelling and ranting and I feared your displeasure if you were disturbed." He had somehow known she would bring suffering down on him, but at least he had managed to spare the lesser slaves through his actions, he thought grimly. He would try to hold onto that thought as he faced the pain of the lash, though he knew it would be very little comfort, if any.

Chuckling, Danarius stroked his beard thoughtfully, an anticipatory gleam in his pale eyes that had Fenris automatically bracing himself. He stood and Fenris moved back, waiting for permission to rise, or some other command. Sending a contemptuous glance at the singers and musicians as they continued their performance, Danarius turned his back and walked in the direction of the manor.

"Follow me, little wolf," he said amicably, and Fenris took his usual place behind and to the right of him, steeling himself for the imminent agony he knew only too well to expect. His master wore such an expression only when he would be doling out pain and suffering to whatever fool was unfortunate enough to draw his wrath. Tonight, it seemed he was once again the ill-favored fool.

"That new slave is Ferelden, you know," he continued. "A land of uncultured savages and barbarians, the lot of them. It so happens that she was a new purchase by Septius, just before his unfortunate demise, and I am now in possession of much of his property." A satisfied smile flashed across his face.

"She has not yet learned her place," Fenris ventured hesitantly, uncertain why Danarius was discussing the human with him.

"No, indeed, she has not, despite having been whipped numerous times since her arrival, but I have no doubt that will soon be remedied. Once her insolence has been banished, she will be a valuable addition to my collection. If she does not conform," he shrugged in unconcern, "I daresay I shall find other uses for her." Fenris kept his face blank at this information. 'Other uses' meant his master's magic experiments and continued lyrium research, and no slave survived such things for long.

They entered the western wing of the main residence and the magister paused outside a room in a hall adjacent to the one that led to his chambers, his hand resting on the elaborate gold handle, his head tilted as he smiled again before throwing the door open and sweeping in.

Fenris followed, confusion coloring his gaze as his eyes swept the room: a large, comfortable bedchamber of the type offered to guests of somewhat lesser importance, but still tastefully furnished and the floor covered with fine, plush carpets. There was a large bed off to one side and a very familiar armor stand...

Movement from the corner of his vision drew his gaze and caused his eyes to widen slightly at what he beheld there. None other than the Ferelden savage, in chains, but looking very different from their first meeting. Keeping his expression blank, he jerked his gaze back to Danarius, who was wearing one of his nastier smiles.

"I have decided on a little experiment, to reward you for your pleasing service to me, pet, as well as the initiative you showed with this chit. These will be your new quarters for the time being, when you are not serving me, and this," he purred, with a dramatic flourish of his hand toward the woman chained to the wall near the bed, "is your new slave, entirely under your authority; when I am not present, of course. My gift to you."

"You may use her as you see fit and apply the lash as needed, so long as you do not maim or permanently mar her body." He walked over and examined her as he would a painting or sculpture, or perhaps an animal of some value, while she glared with hatred and contempt at them both.

"It's difficult to believe," Danarius said in a musing tone, "what value was hiding under all the dirt she wore. One thing I will say for Septius, he always had a discerning eye. For a barbarian, she is really quite lovely, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, Master," Fenris replied through a suddenly tight throat, still reeling from Danarius' declaration that he was to be granted his own slave. What madness was this? He clenched his teeth together as he allowed himself to fully take her in, clad in nothing but the short, clinging silk of a pleasure slave's shift. He felt the first shocking and unwelcome stirring of his own arousal, and crushed it mercilessly.

The pale skin on her shapely legs was unblemished, full hips flowing into a small waist and generous breasts with more than enough cleavage on display to draw the eye. Her dark hair had been washed and brushed to a glossy shine and hung nearly to her waist in subtle waves, a striking contrast to her bright blue eyes and full, pink lips. Free of dirt, he could now see her features were much finer than any human women he had seen in the past, and perversely, the haughty lift of her chin and defiance shining from her rebellious gaze in the face of her bondage, made her more alluring to him, not less. No, Fenris decided, he could never truthfully call her lovely; she was nothing less than beautiful and tempting, and he _hated_ her for making him want her.

Danarius raised a hand toward her, magic swirling from his fingertips and chuckled as she lifted her chin even higher in challenge, her mouth twisted in contempt. The elf clasped his hands in front of him, his shoulders tensing imperceptibly while he waited for the inevitable. Foolish, stubborn girl. But she would learn quickly if she valued her life at all and wished to avoid unnecessary pain.

The first jolt of force slammed her head back against the wall and pinned her there while stinging electric sparks crawled across her in steady waves, the air crackling with magical energy. Her moans of pain were immediate and expected. Danarius was a master of spells designed to inflict maximum suffering while otherwise leaving the subject undamaged in any permanent way. The magister turned toward Fenris, clearly enjoying himself as she released the first ear-shattering scream.

"She is called Hawke, my pet, which I actually find quite fitting, so I decided not to give her a new name, as yet. She is virgin," he said with a grimace of distaste, "which I expect you to relieve her of before the night is through. The enchanted collar she wears will prevent her from attacking you with any form of harmful magic."

Fenris digested all of this silently, hiding his trepidation as to the nature of the task his master had set him. He would rather be ordered to kill a thousand men than to be shut in this room, and not only be forced to touch but to _bed_ the she-devil that stole his breath with her defiant eyes.

 _Fasta vass!_

At her fourth scream of pain, Danarius dropped his hand, finally allowing the spell to fade. "What do you say, Fenris, is the wolf capable of taming the hawk?"

With no other recourse, Fenris dropped to his knees and bowed low before Danarius in apparent gratitude, though inside his fury and bitterness was slowly building, sparking even higher at the knowledge that she was a _mage,_ on top of everything else.

"Yes, Master, although I feel I am unworthy of so much generosity. What must I do with this slave to please you?"

Danarius ran his fingers gently across the white hair of Fenris' bowed head, turning again to regard the woman, who was sagging against the wall and panting, her head hanging every bit as low as his little wolf, though he wasn't fooled, he knew it would take far more than pain to break her. It would be diverting to see how his favorite would handle the challenge before him.

"Do whatever you must," he said in a hard voice that would brook no excuses. "Use whatever means you see fit within the guidelines I have set for you, to turn her into a slave worth coveting. Do not fail me in this, Fenris."

"Yes, Master."

Another light brush of his hair and Danarius turned for the door. "You are relieved of your attendance on me for the immediate future, I want you to focus fully on this little bird until I say otherwise." He turned back with a knowing smile. "Do enjoy yourself tonight, pet." The door snicked closed and it was a full minute before Fenris dared to move.

Springing to his feet with animal grace and anger blazing brightly in his green eyes, he stalked to the wine decanter he had spied previously and took advantage of the first of the new privileges granted him by pouring a generous amount into a glass and quickly draining it in one, long swallow. He stared down broodingly into the empty vessel and found himself hoping that by some mercy it was poisoned.

What was Danarius playing at by ordering him to train such a woman? What did he know of molding slaves into obedient tools? Nothing. He was no master. He could not even recall what his own training entailed, since the ritual that gave him his markings removed all his prior memories. And now he was to be made into the worst kind of man at his master's orders too, one who would force a woman against her will. Was there to be no end to the fresh tortures he was subjected to? He tugged on the ends of his white hair with a gauntlet-covered fist.

 _Venhedis_.

This was so much worse than a mere beating or a single night of pain would have been. He was caught in a carefully crafted trap from which he could discern no ready means of escape. Failure was not an option, as Danarius had made clear. He must succeed in the task he had been given, and he was resigned that he would have to be the villain in order to do so.

He flicked his gaze to the woman and found her watching him with equal focus, her eyes no longer clouded by pain from her recent bout of magical torture, but instead, full of a calculating coolness as she assessed him, likely looking for any weaknesses she could exploit. He easily recognized she was a survivor, buffeted and toughened by life's many cruelties, but so was he. What's more, he wasn't merely a survivor, he was a warrior and a predator. And tonight, she was to be his prey. It was inevitable.

He smirked, letting his eyes fill with the same determined stare as when he hunted to kill, his markings flaring to life. When her gaze wavered with a hint of uncertainty as she examined the lyrium brands shining through his clothing and armor, his smile grew.

Perhaps he _would_ actually manage to enjoy himself, after all.

* * *

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

**Content Warning: this chapter contains rape/non-consensual sex. It's not violent in nature, but nevertheless, it is still clearly rape, despite neither party engaging in said activities of their own volition or free will. I've placed just this scene in a chapter by itself. With this warning in mind, please read or not at your own discretion. If you prefer to skip this chapter and go straight to the next, it won't affect your understanding of the rest of the story.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

The links of metal that bound Hawke to the wall clinked together as she shifted, pushing to her feet to meet her challenger, her hands fisted at her sides. The elf continued to smile at her provokingly, and she wished for nothing more than to be granted some blunt object to smash his smug face with, permanently removing that superior, knowing smirk. If he thought she would just lay down and eagerly spread her legs for him, he was in for a rude awakening. She decided she would force him to kill her first. Considering how volatile his temper seemed, it probably wouldn't be difficult.

He might be a damned sight better looking than the twisted bastard who clearly enjoyed torturing people, and probably animals and children too, but she no more wanted his company than she wanted to go swimming in the Denerim sewers at midsummer. She lifted her chin higher with her resolve strengthened.

"Let me make this perfectly clear for you - if you touch me, I'll kill you, elf," she said in a low voice, straining with all her will against the binding power of the metal collar around her throat, but not even the faintest wisp of fade power heeded her desperate call. Frustration mounting as he drew a step nearer, she clenched her jaw even tighter. It felt as though she were missing a limb, or one of her vital senses, being so completely separated from the magic she had commanded for most of her life. How was she supposed to defend herself? Futilely, she searched the room for something to use as a weapon, but the only one she saw was the large sword the elf had set aside after the other rat bastard left.

"Since it is obvious to me from the look in your eyes that you have killed before, I believe your threat is genuine." His deep voice vibrated strongly in the space between them, the infuriating smirk still on his full lips. "Or rather, I believe that _you_ believe your words. But if magic is all you know how to fight with, you would not be a threat to me, even were you unbound. I kill mages often and I take great pleasure in it."

She watched darkly as he downed another glass of wine while she seethed, the sudden spike of discomfort between her thighs when he spoke making her eyes widen in shock. Something...wasn't right. She hadn't felt like this earlier, or while the cruel mage lingered. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, the sensation intensified, bringing a sneaking suspicion that slowly filled her with an increasingly hopeless feeling of horror.

"Stop talking," she snapped irritably, the musical clinking of the chains growing louder as she raised her hands to cover her ears in an attempt to defend herself from the effect his voice was having on her, the fine trembling that had slowly overtaken her limbs during the past hour growing more pronounced by the minute. Her vision swam, and she clenched her eyes shut, then blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear them.

He glanced at her in surprise at her sudden change of tone, almost pleading, his mouth turning up again in amusement at the demand of her words when he stilled, his head tilting to the side as he watched her carefully for several minutes while she continued to shift, her teeth sinking into her lower lip in distress. She missed the brief flash of pity and anger that shone in his eyes before he turned back and set the wine glass down on the table. All traces of humor disappeared from his face as he made quick work of removing his armor and all the clothing he wore except for his tightly fitted trousers.

"I've been drugged, haven't I?" She whispered her question so quietly that if Fenris were not an elf, he would not have even heard her.

When he stalked across the room toward her, his purpose clear, she raised a hand to ward him off and pressed back against the wall in alarm. "Stay back! Don't touch me and _don't_ speak to me!" She dropped her gaze to the markings across his lean-muscled chest and arms, biting her lip even harder to keep the whimper building in her throat at the sight of him from escaping and betraying her true state. "And stop looking at me like you own me… You don't," she snarled in desperation. "I don't care what that other maniac said, I'm a free woman!"

In a single, swift move, he restrained her arms at her sides and pinned her between the wall and himself in such a way that she couldn't move her legs to kick at him or fight him off, and she moaned in misery, her skin heating at his touch. She writhed against him, desperate to escape, but he only pressed into her harder, his eyes filled with determination.

"Listen to me, Hawke, and take heed while you can. The oils that were rubbed into your skin when you were bathed contain a potent aphrodisiac, as you already suspected, and you cannot escape its effects for much longer. Believe me, I am very intimately acquainted with the futility of resisting." He frowned and looked away from her face, trying not to feel guilt for what he had been ordered to do, and failing.

"Your only hope for relief lies with me," he continued, in a slightly more persuasive tone. "I am willing to give you pleasure in this venture, or you can fight against me and have pain. That is your choice as to which is your preference, and I don't really care either way, but you will not stop this from happening. I have been given a task, and I _must_ complete it."

She moaned again at the inescapably arousing sound of his voice, with his chest pressed against her it vibrated through her breasts and his mouth was so close to her ear. Why did he smell so enticing, like pine trees and spring rain? She raised her head and closed her eyes, inhaling more deeply. His warm breath fanned across her neck and she undulated her hips against him in helpless response, struggling to hold on to even a single thought as the demands of her body blotted everything else out. She _needed_ ….something. What was it?

The smirking elf! He had it, if he could only be persuaded to give it to her. She would ask nicely and surely he would relent and stop being stubborn. Why was her skin on fire?

"Please, please… I _need_ … I...I need something you have," she whispered, her eyes unfocused and hazy with want.

With a resigned sigh, Fenris deftly removed the metal cuffs at her wrists, the brief scrap of clothing she wore, and his own trousers. His eyes lingered on her fully naked form, his aching erection hardening further at the sight. He tried to deny the sharp pang of disappointment rising in him as she stopped resisting him completely, but with her no longer aware or able to fully understand what was happening, it rose, swift and strong.

He had actually been looking forward to having her fight him so he could have the added satisfaction of gently teasing her, and persuading her to eagerly bend to his will so she would ask for his touch freely. It would have made the whole event less trying. Though he had little knowledge of how to truly perform to the level of a pleasure slave, Danarius had required such things of him often enough that he had adequate knowledge of how to satisfy a woman.

Perhaps it was just as well that there would be no resistance for her first time, but still, he found the prospect of coupling with a mindless husk completely distasteful, and he had never forced anyone to lie with him, as far as he could recall. His feelings of disgust and repulsion at the prospect made him certain he never had.

Picking her up easily, he walked to the bed, surprised to discover that she weighed even less than his great-sword. Setting her down, he watched her stretch out like a cat and smile up at him in apparent happiness, practically purring at the feel of cool sheets against her overly sensitive and heated skin. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her open and easy smile directed at him, her eyes brightened further in her delight. If he had thought her beautiful before….

She thrust her chest out as she wiggled against the bed, drawing his eyes to her breasts. The delicate pink of her nipples begged to be tasted and after only another brief moment of hesitation, he moved to comply, slowly relaxing into his task when he found the scent and taste of her skin, as well as the soft sounds of her enjoyment all to his liking. Lying down beside her and for the first time he could ever recall, he allowed nothing but his own preferences and desires to guide him, while also taking great care to give her as much pleasure as he was able. He denied himself no part of her, tasting her skin and kissing where he pleased while she writhed beneath him, pleading for more of his touch. It was a strange thing to have full rein over her body, and the often denied beast inside him roared with victory at so much privilege.

He began to understand, even after so brief an experience, why the Magisters sought such power, though it shamed him to admit it, even to himself. To be able to do whatever you pleased, to have others begging for your attention... It was heady, addictive… The lure was undeniable and it was very dangerous knowledge for a mere slave to have.

"Please...elf... _please_..."

He palmed one of her breasts firmly while he sucked the side of her neck, amazed at how easily she bruised; he had left marks scattered in many places across her body, merely because it was allowed and it pleased him to do so.

"Not elf. Call me Fenris," he whispered into her ear, feeling more than just a little bold at his demand, though he was uncertain if she would remember any of their time while under the affect of the oil. His hand worked steadily between her legs, his strong, slender fingers rubbing and stroking the silken wetness around her nub until she trembled and cried out with pleasure and relief as he again brought her to climax.

Her arms flew up from where she had clutched the bed linen to embrace him instead, her sharp nails digging painfully into the markings on his back and setting off a chain reaction of swift agony across his entire body, making him snarl with sudden, strong anger and pin her wrists roughly to the bed with one hand. With his other, he pushed her legs further apart and thrust home, burying himself in her to the hilt.

Her cry of pain and attempt to buck him off cooled his rage and gave him a brief pang of remorse for losing his temper and taking her roughly, but he ignored his guilt and focused on the feeling of being inside her, holding her down more securely until she stopped fighting and quieted again, softening beneath him as the aphrodisiac's desire swept her up once more.

Moving her legs to wrap around his waist, he held them there as he sat up so he could gaze down at her while he thrust himself into her, over and over. The tight clamp of her soft body surrounding him, enveloping him, embracing him, was the keenest pleasure he had ever known, and his appetite for her grew even greater.

Fenris somehow lost count of how many times they coupled during the long night, as they seemed evenly matched in their drive, though he knew her desire was not of her own volition, and he wondered if she would ever desire him at all if she were herself.

He was surprised by the rush of possessive satisfaction to hear her scream, call, or whisper his name every time she came, bringing a slight smile to his lips, and he did what he would never dare to do at any other time, lost in the beguiling fantasy and lie of mutual pleasure. He kissed her full, pink lips, his tongue plunging into her mouth to plunder her sweetness there.

Her total surrender and reciprocation, the overwhelming intimacy of kissing her was his favorite part of the entire night, and a memory he knew he was likely to revisit often. He knew he should not allow himself to indulge in such weakness, to open himself up to the possibility of craving for more, as that would never do, but he wanted her that way, and in that moment there was no master there to forbid it.

It was only when he opened his eyes while they kissed that he realized she was gazing at him with intelligence in her eyes, fully lucid once more and aware of everything happening to her, yet for some reason she did not fight him or attempt to flee. Instead, she brushed gentle fingers through his hair and delicately caressed his ears, especially hesitant and careful around the sensitive tips. He groaned in pleasure and felt a rush of gratitude at her acceptance, suddenly determined to give her one final, mind-shattering peak, wanting her to truly know the release he could bring her while she was fully aware and in her right mind. He wanted to believe it possible that some memories might become treasures that would stay with you always.

The look in her eyes as orgasm overtook her was one he recognized, though he had never seen it before in any other. Pleasure, yes, but it was completely vulnerable and open. All she had lived through and more, the grief, loneliness, and the tiniest indomitable sliver of the hope for something better. When he gazed into her blue eyes gone soft with emotion, he found he never wanted to look away, for he saw more than just an unwilling slave and a beautiful woman.

In her, he could see himself too.

* * *

~o~


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Aurah was floating in a pleasant, restful place, delightfully languid and just beginning to glide toward wakefulness, when she was rudely and abruptly awoken by a cold splash of water to her face. She sat bolt upright, sputtering indignantly and snarling a curse at the smirking elf standing above her, holding an empty glass.

"You're a right bastard, aren't you? That was a shitty way to awaken me. All you had to do was shake me or call my name." She wiped her face and glared in annoyance to see he was fully dressed in fresh clothes and impeccably groomed, looking none the worse for wear despite the fact that neither of them had gotten much sleep through the night.

He set the glass down on the table next to the bed and looked at her again. "I tried both of those things, several times in fact, and your only response was to mumble, and I quote: 'Carver, you're a prick.' and 'Just five more minutes, mother.'" He tilted his head curiously. "I assume Carver is another member of your family?"

Her face drained of color and her hands twisted into the blankets covering her, clutching them in a death grip. When she answered, her voice was low and rough. "Carver is my younger brother. We were both captured at the same time and brought to the slave market, but we were separated there and I haven't seen him since." Her brows drew together in frustration. "I have no idea where he is."

Fenris watched her face while she spoke, taking note of the openness of her expressions and emotions and realized he would need to instruct her in how to keep them hidden, as well. If that were even possible for her to learn, her every thought seemed to be displayed for all to read. He felt weary at the prospect of trying to teach such a basic, intuitive skill, but it was essential for every slave to keep their opinions and thoughts concealed if they wished to avoid the lash. His gaze fell to her bare shoulders while he tried to imagine the pale skin of her back covered in blood and cuts from a whip… He looked away abruptly and cleared his throat.

"You will always have your memories of him, but it is likely you will never see each other again. Unless you are sold off to a different master, you will live and die here on this estate."

She looked over at him, the angry fire back in her eyes and her chin lifted stubbornly. "We'll just see about that, won't we? Even the strongest fortress can be breached, and the most elaborate prison broken open."

Next to her in a flash, he gripped her shoulders and shook her sharply, his voice quiet and intense. "Little fool! You cannot say such things. You will bring the wrath of the master down upon you, and you can't imagine how you would be made to suffer. I should whip you now for your insolence."

Noting her wince, he loosened his grip, but didn't release her, wondering if she didn't truly have a death wish. His gaze dropped to her lips, remembering the feel and taste of her kiss and how sweetly she surrendered to him, wishing he could experience it all again, but knowing he would not. She would not want it, and he would never force her unless he had no other option, as it had been the night before. Releasing her, he straightened, putting space between them as he turned his eyes to the wall.

"Hawke," he began hesitantly. He wanted to apologize. To beg her forgiveness for touching her against her will. He wanted to make her understand that it would never have happened if he had not been commanded to it. But how could he say those things? Would she think him weak? Regardless, he had to say something, his conscience demanded it. His brow furrowed and he focused on his tightly clenched fist resting on top of his leg as he searched for the right words.

"I know how it feels to be…." _Violated._ _Used._ He couldn't bring himself to say those words aloud. "And the anger it brings after. I am...sorry."

She reached out hesitantly and touched his fist, slowly uncurling his fingers and pulling his hand into her lap where she traced his markings there with soft fingertips, making them tingle in a surprisingly pleasant way. She looked up and searched his face for a long moment, weighing his words, then she finally gave him a sad little smile.

"I believe you, Fenris. I'm fairly good at reading people, and I think in spite of everything, you are at your core, a decent and honorable man doing the best you can in the circumstances. And I...forgive you."

He bowed his head, unable to hold her earnest gaze while he stared down in gratitude at her hand still holding his. How could she say she forgave him so easily? She should hate him for what he did.

Pulling his hand away from her, he met her eyes again. "I know I gave you some pain last night, and I am sorry for that, as well. Are you….sore?"

She grinned, a teasing light in her eyes. "Well, after you fucked me through the bed for hours on end with all the skill of an Orlesian courtesan, you can hardly expect me not to have a little discomfort. It was my first time, after all." She snickered. "And I think it was also maybe my...tenth time?" She shrugged and smirked. "I lost count at some point. Not that it matters."

He looked away, his cheeks heating with color and heard her amused laughter.

"What? I'm the virgin but you're the one blushing. I think that's backwards. The experienced party isn't meant to blush."

Standing, he paced away from her, his bare feet silent on the thick carpet. "No, you don't understand, I have never done that..." he gestured toward the rumpled bed in emphasis, "with a woman before. Or, if I have, I retained no memory of it. It was a new experience for me, as well."

Aurah's brows furrowed and she frowned. "You've never had sex with a woman before? Truly? That's….difficult to believe. You were so good at it, so obviously skilled. And why wouldn't you remember something like that?"

Fenris ran his fingers through his white hair, searching for the right words to explain. "I have served my master's guests in the past, when he required it, but it was not the same. I couldn't… It was never… They always..." He grunted, frustrated that words always failed him when he was uncomfortable or embarrassed.

"Used you, without thought to your pleasure," she finished quietly, staring down at her tightly clasped hands in her lap before looking up, her expression closed and hard.

"Yes," he breathed, relieved she understood, despite the poor job he had done in attempting to explain.

She studied him again and he felt like she was taking him apart, piece by piece, and peering deep inside at all the things he kept hidden, making him shift uncomfortably, but he couldn't force himself to look away. And he didn't really want to.

Her lips lifted in a small smile, and his cautiously mirrored her expression. "But it wasn't like that between us, was it, Fenris?"

The smile slipped from his face and he searched her eyes intently. "No, Hawke, it wasn't."

"It's Aurah," she said, so quietly that he stepped closer, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Pardon?"

She chuckled. "My name. My given name. It's Aurah, Hawke is my family name." She shot him a quick glance and looked down again. "But I haven't told anyone, not since coming to Tevinter, and I don't want anyone else to know yet. Maybe it's silly, but it's all I have left that's truly mine. I just...I feel ridiculous not being on a first name basis with you now."

It was odd, but Fenris felt like he had been given a valuable gift. How was it she had trusted him so quickly? He didn't know, but he wasn't going to question it.

"Aurah." She looked up at him and he gave her a small nod. "You have a lovely name, and we will keep it between us if you wish, though I also think Hawke well suits you. Thank you for telling me."

She blushed a pretty pink that matched her lips and shrugged. "My pleasure, Fenris. I only wish we'd met someplace else, in different circumstances. I can't help but feel we might have been good friends."

He sat down on the bed again and pursed his lips. "Friends? I confess, I know very little about friendship or what it entails."

She laughed and took his hand again, and despite his usual aversion to touch, he let her. The casual caresses that seemed to be a part of her felt strangely intimate, as though she wanted to touch him just to feel connected to him and not because she wanted something from him. Or maybe he was imagining things and he should be more on his guard. Despite the forced intimacy of the previous night, he did not really know her. Not yet.

"Well, we should give friendship a go, then. I think you're handsome and funny, in a very sharp-worded and dry-witted sort of way, and you think I'm a beautiful fool. We'll get on famously, I should think."

He narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that?"

"How do I know what?" she asked, with one brow raised quizzically.

"That I think you beautiful."

She shook her head, still smiling. "I don't, and I'm only teasing you. I think the fool part is pretty accurate though. You do keep calling me that."

Emboldened by her apparent openness and complimentary words, he reached out hesitantly toward her, and when she didn't flinch away or make a move to stop him, he ran his fingers through her dark hair and hooked a lock gently behind one ear, his eyes on the movement.

"I believe you are aware that you're a beautiful woman, and it is hardly surprising if I think so. As to you being a fool, I hope you will not be. I would not care to watch you suffer for poor choices, rashly made." He let his hand fall back against his lap, and the slight softness in his eyes melted away as though it had never been there, his features returning to the closed, forbidding expression he wore habitually.

"Now," he said in a firm voice that was intended to remind her that she was his slave, and he, her master. "You must rise from bed, bathe and eat, for the day is wasting and you still have much to learn of how to be a good slave."

The comfort between them ended abruptly, as though someone snapped their fingers and canceled the spell they had been under. She scowled, threw back the covers and stood, keeping the sheet around her to hide her nakedness and strode into the connected bathing chamber, where he soon heard the splash of water. A quarter of an hour later, she emerged with a towel wrapped around her and walked to the full length mirror, turning her head this way and that and examining herself intently, touching a finger to one of the dark marks he had left on her neck.

"Andraste's ass," she murmured. "It looks like I was mauled by a wolf."

He smirked at her reflection in the mirror, watching her from the chair where he sat and enjoying the sight. "Accurate," he said under his breath. He took a sip of the cheap, watered down wine brought by the female slaves that delivered their breakfast and beckoned her over. "Come and eat while it's still warm."

While she came and helped herself to the meal that had been brought for them, he began what amounted to a lecture as to procedure and what was and was not allowed for a slave in Danarius' household.

Hawke frowned. "But if all slaves sleep and eat only in the slave quarters set aside for them, then what is all this?" she asked, with a wave of her hand that encompassed the entire room as well as the repast in front of them. "Are you some exception to that rule?"

Fenris rested an elbow on the arm of the chair where he sat and gave a slight nod. "As our master's bodyguard, I am the sole exception, yes. And I assume you, as well, for as long as it pleases him for us to remain together."

Her eyes fell to the elaborate swirls and marks on his bare arm. "And are those markings on you part of being his guard?"

Holding his arm out so to show more of them, his mouth tightened. "They are lyrium, burned into my flesh as a means of turning me into a warrior with...special abilities. I am told fighters such as myself are very rare."

"Lyrium," she gasped, and leaned closer, holding out her hand to touch him. He pulled back and gave her a severe look that stopped her in her tracks. She let her hand drop but held his gaze. "That must have been very painful."

He laughed humorlessly at the understatement. "You have no idea how painful. As a side effect, the ritual that gave these to me also stripped me of all my memories of my life before."

She stared in horror. "You mean you recall nothing before you were given the marks? Not even your childhood or anything?"

"No," he ground out, his jaw clenching tightly together, and instantly regretting telling her anything about it.

Her eyes softened, a small furrow between her brows. "I'm so sorry, Fenris. That must be difficult not to be able to remember your past."

He stood, towering over her and sneered. "Keep your pity, I don't want it. You know nothing of my life." He stalked across the room to the table where his armor pieces lay and began to buckle them back on with precise movements. "There are garments for you in the bathing chamber. Go and dress yourself, and be quick about it." After a moment he heard her rise, her soft footfalls disappearing into the adjoining room.

Fenris scowled, now solidly in an ill humor and feeling very put upon. Damn Danarius, and damn the woman he had shackled him with. He wanted the whole farce at an end, and as soon as possible.

Hawke came back into the room, dressed in the long green tunic and brown trousers of a common house slave, a frown on her face. "I couldn't find any shoes, and I don't know where my boots went."

He sighed, suddenly weary, then turned to face her. "How many slaves have you seen wearing shoes since you entered this house?"

She shifted from one foot to the other, biting the inside of her cheek. "I guess...none."

"Which would lead you to conclude…?" he prompted her with an expectant look.

"They're not allowed," she said in a petulant huff, her arms crossed and face full of anger. "Fine. What's next?"

He continued in the same bland tone, his voice slowly growing harsher with every word he uttered. " _Now_ , I shall chain you to the wall, and whip you for your insolent tone. Does that meet with your approval?"

Aurah gaped, her mouth closing and opening in shock, a brief flash of hurt in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to the floor. She shuffled over to where the chains hung from the wall, her shoulders slumped in defeat and waited silently.

Fenris watched her in exasperation, letting her stand and anticipate the punishment for several minutes before he went to her and detached one of the chains from the wall. He reattached it to the collar around her neck before he met her eyes.

"You are fortunate I have no taste for inflicting pain on others, but if you speak to the master or to me in such a way in future, you will be whipped soundly, and I will be unable to shield you from it. We are going to the practice grounds now for my daily training. Only speak if spoken to, and if you cannot conceal your anger and hate for the situation you find yourself in, then keep your eyes fixed on the floor, so you will at least appear respectful and obedient. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she said, her voice full of a defeated grief and gaze lowered.

Clenching his jaw at the unwelcome wave of sympathy for her, and anger at himself for his weakness, he wrapped her chain around his gauntlet-covered fist and led her from the room, the chain clinking merrily between them.

* * *

~o~


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

They fell into a kind of routine over the next several weeks, and while not exactly enjoyable for either of them, it had at least become familiar. After breakfasting together, they would proceed to the training grounds where Fenris would train, sometimes on his own, or often against several of the guards at the same time. They would then go to the slave kitchens and take whatever portable food was available to one of the empty gardens, before they began more of what Hawke had dubbed 'slave school' with Fenris as her instructor.

Aurah tilted her head back, seated on the platform overlooking the training grounds where Fenris always left her while he was busy, and enjoyed the feeling of the hot sun beating down on her face, smiling at the simple pleasure. At least sunshine wasn't forbidden for a slave, she thought bitterly. Sounds of footsteps behind her had her eyes opening to look around, her stomach plunging to her toes when she realized it was Danarius, followed by a young elven slave boy.

The Magister settled onto the lush, cushioned chaise in the center of the covered platform, affording him an excellent view of the fighting, while the elven lad served him refreshments from the newly arrived tray, brought by yet another slave. Hawke wondered idly if he even wiped his own ass, or if he had a slave do that for him too.

"Come here, little bird, and let me look at you."

She startled, then swiftly got up from where she sat, remembering to keep her eyes down as she moved to comply. A silent minute of scrutiny passed while she fought not to fidget under his assessing gaze.

"Look at me, my dear, let me see those lovely eyes of yours."

She lifted her gaze, focusing on his left ear until the sound of his laughter startled her into meeting his eyes.

"Well," he said in a very satisfied tone, "I see Fenris has been able to affect a rather remarkable change in your attitude. How marvelous." He turned to the boy beside him. "Go and tell Fenris to come attend on me, Faylon." The boy dashed off and Danarius beckoned to her. "Sit here beside me, Hawke."

Moving to the stool to his left, she sat and clasped her hands in her lap, tensing slightly when she felt him unwinding her braid and then began to run his fingers through her hair, as though he were petting a house-cat. Fenris was kneeling on the platform a moment later, and the boy, Faylon, went back to stand near Danarius' head, in easy reach of the wine decanter and tray of dainties, should his master require food or drink.

"You may stand, little wolf. Tell me, how have you found your time with Hawke? Did you have to beat her often before she learned this pleasing submission I see from her now?"

Fenris stood and met his master's gaze before lowering his eyes. "She quickly learned that defiance brings punishment, and she has enough sense to want to avoid it."

Danarius hummed and tugged her hair to force her to tilt her head back, in order to see more of her neck bared. "And what of her bed skills? Is she becoming proficient in all she must know?"

Hawke swallowed when she saw Fenris go still as a statue, but not before he shot a quick glance her way.

"I...have not bedded her again since the first night you commanded me to. I did not realize you wished me to instruct her in that as well."

Danarius swirled the wine in his glass before inhaling the scent of the libation deeply and taking a small sip to taste. "See that you attend to that without delay. I have future plans for her, and if she doesn't know how to properly suck a cock, among other skills, then I shall be quite put out. I trust you understand me."

"Yes, Master," Fenris replied, his head dipping further down, his white hair falling forward to conceal his eyes.

"And I don't want her dressed as a common house slave. You are both above that, and I want it reflected in your appearance. See Danilah about more suitable garments for her that will highlight more of the girl's charms."

Danarius reached out and waved a spell at her neck, then unclasped her collar and set it aside. Hawke moaned aloud at the sudden influx of glorious mana into her body and fell sideways across the Magister's lap, unable to control her own limbs in the onslaught. After well over a month of being suppressed, it was nearly painful, like trying to stand and walk after being forced into a tiny, cramped box for hours on end, her whole body prickling with pins and needles.

"Yes, that's what I thought," he chuckled. He pulled her into his arms and placed a hand on her head, and she felt a rush of his magic, and realized he had cast a rejuvenation spell on her, and smiled her gratitude up at him before she remembered to lower her gaze again. Grasping her chin, he made her look at him again, a relaxed smile on his face.

"What do you say, Hawke?"

"Thank you, Master. I feel like I can breathe again."

He laughed. "If you continue in your current obedience, you need never be suppressed at all. We value magic here, even that of a slave."

"May I...cast something?" she asked hesitantly. "I feel as though I am going to burst if I don't."

The Magister tilted his head thoughtfully. "Do you know an ice spell?"

"Yes, I know several."

"Cast ice on that practice dummy just there." He nodded toward the one he was referring to, and she stood and moved nearer to it, whispering the familiar spell until the object was encased in a thick layer of hard ice. She turned back to him to find he was watching her with an eagerness that had not been there moments before.

"And now fire?"

She closed her eyes, and felt the power swell inside her as she chanted and then opened them to see large balls of fire falling from the sky and raining across the entire practice field, sending the men engaged in training shouting in alarm and running for safety. She turned back to Danarius in wide-eyed fear.

"I'm sorry! I meant to use the minor fireball spell, not firestorm!"

He threw his head back and laughed in delight. "Do not fear, little Hawke, I was entertained." He drew a slow breath, still looking at her in consideration. "There is an unexpected elegance to your magic, but also a raw power few can boast. Pity you were born a Ferelden peasant, and not into a Magister's family. With proper training, you might have gone far."

She frowned, her pride stinging at his words and making her blurt out her history without forethought. "I am from Kirkwall nobility on my mother's side."

He took another sip of his wine. "Indeed? And what is the name of this so-called noble family you claim?"

"Amell." She glanced at Fenris who was staring at her as though he had never seen her before, then his eyes darted away.

Danarius set his glass aside, his smile fading. "Amell? I am familiar with the name. Are you any relation to the Warden Amell that slew the arch-demon and ended the Ferelden blight?"

"I...yes, Daylen Amell. My mother told me of that part of the family. I believe we are cousins, though I have never met him. He was in the Circle, but I was a free apostate and have never been imprisoned by templars. My sister and I both learned how to control our magic from our father. He was trained in the Kirkwall Circle before he ran away to Ferelden to marry my mother."

The Magister stroked his beard thoughtfully. "How fascinating. It seems I may have caught an even more valuable bird than I realized." He turned his regard to the tattooed elf standing silently. "Well Fenris, you may take your girl and go, and don't neglect her other training."

Danarius smirked at Hawke. "Obey him as you would me, little bird, and I may choose to reward you if you impress me."

They both gave the standard reply of, "Yes, Master," then made their way off the practice grounds. Fenris stalking angrily ahead, with Hawke breaking into a jog to keep up with him.

* * *

When they arrived at their rooms once more, Fenris took to pacing from one side of the room to the other, turning suddenly and punching his fist into the stone wall. The sickening crunch had Hawke rising from the bed where she had been sitting silently, watching him. She ran to him and took his hand gently, grimacing when his nostrils flared in pain.

"Here, take this gauntlet off," she said quietly, and helped him work it off, then turned her attention to his hand, frowning in concentration as blue light gathered around her palm before she directed it to his hand. "You broke it," she murmured. He flinched, expecting even more pain from her magic, but was surprised when it didn't come. After a moment, he felt a sharp stab in one of his fingers, before the pain faded completely, his hand whole once more. She released him and stepped back with a small smile.

"There, good as new. Care to share what has you so angry, so that you're pitching a fit like a two year old?"

He glared, and her smile widened in response, turning mischievous. "Shall I take a wild guess and assume this has to do with you not wanting to have sex with me?"

"Do you think I have any interest in teaching you to suck a cock?" he exploded. " _Venhedis_! I am a warrior, not a pleasure slave! I'm no expert in...cock-sucking."

She flopped onto the bed, her upper body bolstered by a pile of pillows, and raised her brow and gave him a wry look. "I'm not exactly jumping for joy over here either. Look at the bright side, I'll have to practice on you to be able to become proficient. Personally, I think you have the better end of the bargain."

He scowled, his cheeks tinged pink. "Is everything a joke to you? I personally fail to see the humor in the situation."

Hawke laid her head further back, staring up at the ceiling. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't you been hammering into me the importance of unquestioning obedience? I could grow morose and brood about this latest directive, I suppose, but it hasn't really been very helpful up until now. What's the point of fighting against inevitability?" she asked, with eyes full of bitterness.

Fenris studied her, his own irritation fading when something painful clenched inside his gut at her expression, and moved nearer to the bed, the words tumbling from him before he could stop them. "Don't do that, Aurah."

She turned her gaze back toward him, waiting for him to continue. He pulled off his other gauntlet and ran his hand through his white hair and sighed before he sat beside her. "You must keep who you really are tucked deep inside, where no one can take it from you. And always hold on to just a little hope, if you can." He lowered his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "If you lose the last of your hope, then they win." His hand clenched into a fist and a muscle in his jaw throbbed. "Don't let them."

"To thine own self, be true," she murmured. At his questioning look, she smiled. "It's something I read in one of my father's books a long time ago. I know in my heart I'm not a slave, and I have to hold onto that truth until it becomes reality once more."

She sat up and rested her hand lightly on his arm, her expression earnest. "Thank you for reminding me of what I had very nearly given up on." Pressing closer, she rested her other hand against his cheek. "Do you want to dream with me now, Fenris? Just for tonight. That you're a free man, and I'm a free woman, and we touch each other because we want to. That is...if you want to," she whispered, her lips close to his.

"I...want to," he said in a low voice, his green eyes intent upon her own. He closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers and burying his hands in her hair when she sighed in pleasure. Her lips parted eagerly and he darted his tongue against hers, stifling a groan when she lightly sucked on it.

They shed armor and clothing, kissing all the while, and engaged in a small wrestling match when Aurah discovered a ticklish spot on Fenris' ribs and tried to take advantage until he soundly pinned her arms and legs. Breathless with laughter, she turned her head away from him when he tried to kiss her again.

"No fair, you are far stronger than I am! You should let me win at least once. You might even like what happens if I win."

He lifted his head from where he had been kissing her neck and shrugged. "Very well." He rolled until she was sitting on top of him, straddling his waist, and smirked up at her. "Now that you have victory, what will you do with it?"

She bit her lip to stifle her grin at the sight of Fenris laid out beneath her. "I think I should explore my new territory thoroughly, don't you?"

Leaning down, she ran her tongue across his collarbone, and followed one lyrium line with a barely there drag of her lips before moving to his nipple and circling her tongue there until he groaned and cursed in Tevene. She kissed her way down his taut abdomen, dipping her tongue into his navel and giving a breathy laugh when he swore again. With a quick glance up at his face, she slid his erection into her mouth, then froze for half a second before she decided how she was supposed to proceed.

She pulled back and laved his full length until he was covered in moisture and making encouraging sounds, then sucked him into her mouth again with firm suction, listening to him to see if what she was doing was pleasing or not. It didn't take her long to discover that if she just sucked the crown, and flicked it with her tongue he nearly launched off the bed. She finally decided to try to mimic what happened when he was inside her, and was encouraged by his frequent swearing and heavier panting breaths.

He had one hand buried in her hair, partially controlling the pace, when she lost her balance and his cock slid all the way to the back of her throat, nearly making her gag. Her eyes started to water and she was suddenly struck by how ridiculous she must look and started to laugh around his cock, when he shouted and bucked and her mouth was full of his release. Surprised, she mastered her gag reflex again and managed to swallow as his hand finally slid out of her hair and she felt the tension drain from his muscles.

Sitting upright, Aurah massaged her sore jaw and gave him a questioning look. He smiled, his eyes light and teasing in the aftermath of pleasure. "Are you quite certain you have never done that before? Absolutely certain?"

She chuckled. "I assure you that _you_ are the entire sum of my sexual experience, Messere."

He rested a hand underneath his head. "Then for tonight, at least, you remain mine alone." His eyes gleamed with intensity as he continued. "Were you truly mine, I would never share you with another, and I would kill any who threatened your happiness."

She reached for his free hand and laced their fingers together, smiling when he squeezed her hand back. "We would belong only to each other, and make a life somewhere together. This is a good dream. Let's not wake up, and it never has to end," she said wistfully.

He tugged her to him, his mouth right against her ear, and breathed his words there so no one else would be able to hear. "Or, perhaps it might some day be more than a dream."

Hawke drew back enough to see his eyes, and they were serious as he watched her reaction closely. "Do you mean it?" she mouthed, and he gave a single dip of his chin in assent. Her smile stretched wide as her eyes filled with tears and she mouthed a thank you. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, then put his mouth at her ear once more.

"We will not speak of it again. Not until the time is right."

She nodded her agreement and gave herself over to his gentle touch. When he was fully aroused again, he slid deep inside her, hushed sighs of pleasure coming from them both.

It was that night that the first of his memories returned.

* * *

~o~


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Fenris sat on the side of the bed, the cold sweat from his dreams cooling on his body, his head resting in his hands. Roused from slumber by his movement, Hawke sat up and touched his arm tentatively.

"Fenris? Are you well? Can I get you anything?"

His fingers bunched in his hair, and he tugged the white strands briefly before he lifted his head and turned so he could see her in the dim light of middle night before he looked down with a frown.

"I'm...fine. I just…. I had a dream. No, it was a….a memory returned. I remember...playing with my sister when we were small, while our mother worked. My sister's name is...Varania. She had red hair, and she called me...I had another name. It was….Leto, not Fenris. Fenris is the name Danarius gave me."

Hawke pulled her legs up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her cheek on her knee. "But this is good news, isn't it? Don't you want to recover your memories?"

"Yes, I..." He looked away. "It's just- overwhelming. I did not expect..." Fenris turned to look at her, his regard piercing. "You've changed my life since you entered it. I'm not the same as I was before. I never expected someone like you."

Her lids lowered, hiding her eyes from his view and her pale cheeks pinked with a blush. "If I've helped you in any way, I'm glad." She glanced up. "I'm not sure I could have survived here, if it weren't for you."

"You would have survived," he murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek. "You're much stronger than you know."

"Well, alright then," she said with a laugh. "But I wouldn't want to survive without you."

His hand in her hair stilled and her eyes widened, realizing what she had just admitted. She looked at him, feeling mildly panicked at his sudden, guarded expression. "Fenris, I-"

He cut her off, turning away. "Don't need me, Hawke. Don't need anyone. You will come to regret it if you do. We're just slaves, and everyone is out for themselves. The sooner you learn that, the better."

He rose and dressed then left the room without a backwards look. She clenched her jaw and dug her nails into the skin of her arms, where she held herself so tight. It was dawn before she finally fell into a fitful sleep, full of darkspawn, the foul smell of their tainted blood, and the sound of Bethany's dying scream echoing in her mind.

* * *

The next several days, Fenris was unusually silent, clearly brooding over something, as Hawke had quickly learned he was prone to, only speaking to rap out brusque commands to bathe, dress or eat, which she would have done anyway. So she said nothing, following him dutifully as they went through the motions of their usual routine, heading to the practice grounds, aggravated at how quickly the easiness between them had disappeared once more. When she saw guards sparring and practicing their skills, she suffered a mounting frustration, and felt that if she didn't release some of her emotions through aggression, she was going to explode.

"May I have a staff to practice with, Master?"

Fenris turned to her with furrowed brows. "You want to cast more of your magic? Here?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, not for magic. I just want a stick of wood. You know, to...hit things with. Like that dummy over there," she said with a wave of her hand. "Just sitting and watching you for hours on end seems a waste. I want to _do_ something for once, if you'll permit it."

He stared at her, seeming to consider. "Wait here," he ordered her curtly, and stalked away to what looked to be a small armory shed, emerging a moment later with a long, smooth staff. "This is a quarter staff, but I think perhaps the length should work well enough for you." He tossed it at her and she caught it, immediately turning the movement into a flashy twirl that she had perfected many years before. She tossed it from one hand to the other, testing the weight, and then gave him a small nod.

"I had a blade on one end of mine, but this is a similar length. It will do well enough for a bit of practice. Thank you."

Hawke turned her back on him abruptly, uncaring if he reprimanded her for insolence later, and went straight to the dummy, standing a little straighter with her shoulders thrown back with fresh confidence to be holding a weapon again for the first time since her capture.

She proceeded to lose herself in the old forms she had practiced for so many years with Beth to perfect, although her younger sister focused less on learning to beat someone to death with her staff and more on magical attacks. She only wished she had been the one to reach the ogre first. Maybe it would have turned out differently, or maybe she would be the one dead now. The thought of Bethany trapped in the life of a slave, being used for sex, or Maker knew what else, made Aurah's jaw clench with anger. Maybe it had worked out for the best. She never thought of her sister's death as a blessing but perhaps it was. Surely some things were worse than death, and being a slave in Tevinter seemed to qualify. She refused to consider what situation Carver might be caught in. If she allowed herself to dwell on the possibilities, she would go mad.

Loud clapping broke through her battle-induced meditations, and she looked to the side to see Danarius watching her from the platform, and beginning to make his way toward her. She swallowed nervously and glanced back at the dummy, only then realizing she had mostly destroyed the stuffed thing, having beaten away the head and both arms. Had she broken a rule by asking for a weapon? When she saw the Magister in her peripheral vision, she turned to him and went down on one knee, as she had seen Fenris do so many times, hoping it would soften him if he was angry.

He placed his hand on top of her bent head, as though he were some sort of benevolent ruler, or a Chantry mother, bestowing a blessing. Anger pulsed through her, sharp and strong, and she buried it deep so that he could not sense it within her.

"Rise, my sweet Hawke. Once more, you have delighted me. I had no idea you were such a fierce warrior, in addition to all your other assets. Why, you may even rival Fenris for pure ferocity." He tilted his head in thought while Hawke stood docilely before him. She saw Fenris step into her peripheral view and tensed, though she didn't know why.

"I think a bit of a test is in order. Fenris, I want you to fight Hawke to first blood so I can see what she's really capable of. You may both use whatever talents or magic you possess, but preferably no injuries beyond what a healing spell could correct." He turned to go and be seated again on his observation dais, and Hawke looked at Fenris, trying to gauge his thoughts, but he avoided her gaze.

They walked to the clearing closest to Danarius and Fenris drew his sword and looked to her and nodded. She nodded back to indicate her readiness and they began to circle each other warily, waiting to see which one would break first.

Hawke was just about to fling a fireball at him and rush him while he was distracted, when he surged forward in a burst of speed. She dove to the ground and rolled, just managing to stay beyond the reach of his massive sword. She swallowed against the fear crawling up her throat, thinking that Fenris looked very much like he wanted to kill her, as opposed to just a friendly spar. But perhaps he did. She knew he often resented her and kept her at a distance, never allowing her to get too close to his emotions and true thoughts, and she didn't really know what he was capable of.

In a flash of blue light he was behind her with one hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off her air.

"All too easy, mage," he hissed in her ear.

Just as quickly, Hawke channeled a spell of force that lifted him into the air and smashed him into the ground, briefly stunning him. She walked over to him as he blinked up at her and she lifted her chin, her pride still stinging at his words.

"Perhaps not so easy, after all." Feeling wet against her neck, she raised her hand and wiped at it in bemusement, realizing the spikes from his gauntlets had cut her in several places. He sat up, wiping at the line of blood coming from his nose. "It's your win," she said, showing him her stained hand to indicate he had drawn first blood.

He wiped another rivulet of blood from his nose and looked at her. "I believe I would call this match a draw."

Hawke pursed her lips. "That's generous of you, but I know when I'm beaten." She expended the energy to heal herself, closing the small punctures on her neck, then drew closer to him with hand extended and blue light shining in an offer to heal him too, but he batted her hand away with a scowl.

"We should return to Master now. He is waiting for us," he said in a low tone.

When they reached Danarius, they both went to their knees in what looked like a coordinated movement and Danarius laughed in amusement. "Well, you both seem to grow more alike every day. I didn't imagine I would have a matched set of warriors, but that is even better than what I originally planned, I think. I know exactly how I will have you both entertain my guests in future. Oh, it will be riveting!"

Hawke caught Fenris glancing at her from the corner of his eye, and she briefly held his gaze, her own colored with questions and confusion. Danarius stood to his feet.

"Stand. I want you to practice fighting together here, every day, until you flow together and anticipate each other's moves effortlessly." He looked back and forth between them, pursing his lips. "Now Fenris, after that thrilling fight, let me see you kiss Hawke with all that pent up desire you're holding onto, and do it properly."

Aurah tried to keep the surprise off her face, but her eyes widened when Fenris gripped her head firmly between his hands, his green eyes burning with intensity before he descended on her and ravished her mouth aggressively, unable to do anything more than receive his dominating attentions and the strong thrust of his tongue in her mouth. She heard a murmured whisper, the shifting of fabric and other sounds a moment later to her side and tried to turn her head, but Fenris gripped her tighter, his mouth trailing kisses to her ear to whisper briefly. "Don't look. Focus only on me."

She tried to obey, but as the sounds went on, she realized what was happening, and Danarius' low, pleasured groan left no doubt in her mind that he was being serviced by one of his slaves while he watched them together. Fenris had gentled his kiss after that, until Danarius finally gave them leave to go.

Hawke glanced briefly at the young elven woman sitting quietly at Danarius' feet, surreptitiously wiping at the corner of her mouth, and turned and fled as though the arch-demon himself was pursuing her. When Fenris caught up with her, she was sitting on the edge of the bed in their room, shaking, with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Fenris glanced at her and then proceeded to remove his armor, a piece at a time. Hawke turned to watch him, shivering when the light glinted off the spikes from his gauntlets, remembering how the sharp points cut into her. A perfect description of Tevinter when she thought about it. She laughed bitterly, her vision starting to blur and Fenris turned toward her. She swallowed and forced the words around the lump in her throat.

"I used to dream of coming here, you know." She glanced at him before looking away. "When I was a girl and we were always hiding from the templars and it was so difficult, so tedious, always trying to conceal what I was from unfriendly eyes." She chuckled again at her stupidity then. "I thought a land where mages could be free and open with their talent would be so much better, a veritable paradise, but it isn't better at all. It's cruel and wicked, evil in its most distilled form." The tears distorting her vision finally welled up enough to spill over, coursing down her cheeks through the dirt and sweat still on her skin.

"It's worse than the most awful nightmare, even worse than the ogre that crushed my sister and killed her, because at least I could kill it back, and there was an end. But there's no end here. This misery just goes on and on, and I can't wake up from this nightmare, no matter how hard I try."

Fenris stood still and listened, surprised at how easily she shared her darker thoughts with him, and further surprised at how her opinions on magic and Tevinter so closely matched his own. She wiped her tears quickly, seemingly embarrassed by them before glancing at him again.

"You know Danarius better than I do. What do you think he meant, when he mentioned plans for us?"

Fenris shifted from one foot to the other, not wanting to speak his suspicions aloud until he knew beyond a doubt. "I believe, based on his comments earlier, he will want us to fight one another, showing off our skills and abilities as a way to make his colleagues covet us. He is never more pleased than when his equals are jealous of his possessions," he said with a bitter twist of his mouth. "Beyond that, I could not say for certain."

Hawke gave him a hard look. "Can't say, or won't say?"

He clenched his jaw, a muscle throbbing angrily in his cheek at how easily she had learned to read him. "Both. What is the point of speculating? We will know in due time. No matter what Danarius comes up with, it will not be something we are likely to enjoy."

She pushed to her feet, beginning to pace in agitation. "I can't stay here much longer, whether I succeed in an escape, or try and die, anything is better than this passive acceptance. You can come with me or not, Fenris, but I can't wait forever. You're free to choose as you like."

She rushed from the room and the door to the bathing chamber slammed shut. He went to the side table and drank directly from the full wine decanter, barely stopping for breath until more than half the bottle was empty and there was a pleasant burn in his belly.

Free to choose, was he? He scoffed and looked at the door she disappeared behind. Hardly. He would never choose Danarius over her. If Hawke fled, he knew he would be right behind her, come what may.

He only hoped that path didn't lead straight to their deaths. And there was still the unresolved worry about his sister, although there was little he could do about it, at present, so quickly put it out of his mind.

Nothing was guaranteed for a slave beyond the next minute, or the next hour. And he knew what he needed, what he craved, even if it only meant sitting beside her while she bathed. He wasn't certain which of them was the master of their little twosome, and which was the slave, not anymore. He filled a crystal goblet with the red wine, and went to take it to her.

* * *

~o~


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

"Oh, sweet Andraste on the pyre," Hawke moaned, "just there! You glorious elf, wherever did you get such magic fingers?"

Fenris chuckled, pushing his thumb deeper into her arch. "Where do you suppose? Although I will say this is the first time I actually wanted to rub someone's feet. You should be honored."

She laughed and placed the empty wine glass to one side, feeling much improved after a long soak and the wine. "Oh, I do feel honored, believe me. If you like, I can show my gratitude in a more...pleasant way," she said, quirking her eyebrow.

He shook his head and smirked. "I'm still covered in sweat and dirt. Perhaps I'll revisit your offer after I bathe."

"Then you'd better climb in here with me. I'm not planning on coming out anytime soon unless you drag me."

Fenris tilted his head. "Not even for..." he drew in a deep breath through his nose. "Roast lamb and potatoes?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You do play dirty, don't you? But you might be bluffing. I can't smell anything."

He smiled again, his brows furrowing. "So, you actually fought an ogre and won?"

Her playful expression faded and she nodded. "Maker's truth, I really did, along with my brother, and our friend, Aveline. I was so drained after that fight. But you know that's not the most unbelievable part of the whole thing."

"What was, then?" he asked, switching to her other foot.

She sighed, her eyes slipping closed in pleasure. "We were saved by a dragon." Opening her eyes, she caught his dubious look and grinned. "It's the truth. She roasted the horde of darkspawn surrounding us and then turned into an old woman named Flemeth."

"A witch," he spat in disgust.

Hawke nodded. "Undoubtedly. But we would have died then if not for her intervention. She got us safely to Gwaren with the understanding that we would deliver a locket for her when we reached Kirkwall, and I promised I would." She frowned. "Although we've obviously not quite made it there yet. I wonder if Carver managed to hang onto it?" She stood and shrugged, accepting the towel he handed her with a smile and stepped out of the bath.

"You certainly do have some interesting tales, Hawke." He removed his clothing and slid into the still hot water.

She rubbed her wet hair vigorously with the towel, then dropped it and went to the cupboard that held all their clothing, and selected the least slutty looking thing she could find and slipped into it, but it still bared her breasts quite scandalously. After several minutes trying to make it cover more than it was designed to, she gave up and faced Fenris. When she saw his smirk she rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps I should just climb onto the dinner tray as the main course, in this thing."

His gaze intensified, that half smile still on his lips. "Tempting," he murmured. "I am rather hungry and you _do_ look good enough to eat."

She blushed and looked away. "Oh, hush. I'm in the mood for a big helping of meat, myself." His smile grew and she became more flustered. "I mean meat to eat!" At his full-throated laughter, rich and deep, she gave up and fled the room.

* * *

Aurah stomped into their room again weeks later after their hours of sparring were finished, pursued by a very angry elf. He slammed the door shut behind him and glared at her, breathing heavily.

"I _told_ you I didn't mean to hit you quit so hard with that force push, but you cut my cheek with those pointy gauntlets you wear!" She pointed to the wound, still slowly oozing blood down her jawline.

He stepped into her personal space, crowding her, but she refused to budge, lifting her chin stubbornly. "And I told _you_ that that wound was unintentional!"

"Then what are we fighting about?" she yelled, throwing her hands up.

"I don't know," he growled, seizing her head and pulling her into a desperate kiss. She made a noise of surprise and eagerly reciprocated, gasping as he spun her and shoved her against the wall, his tongue invading her mouth. His chest-plate and gauntlets were quickly discarded in a heap beside them, and he pulled and tugged at her clothing and pushed his own down until he could lift her without fabric to impede him. She wrapped her legs around him, her head bumping back into the stone wall hard enough to hurt when he drove into her roughly.

"Fenris," she gasped, digging her heels into his backside to urge him to thrust harder and catching his mouth again in another kiss that was all teeth and tongues. She bit his lower lip hard, making him growl and yank her back by the hair. He gave her a look that promised retribution, then worked his way down her neck, biting and sucking until she was covered in little love bites that made her skin tingle and burn, the rhythm of his thrusting hips never faltering.

He swore in her ear when she clenched around him and she was so close, _so close_ , straining for the pinnacle when he growled her name, more a command than an endearment, and the warmth that was focused in her center, shattered, exploding outward in fluttering spasms that shook her whole body and forced her eyes shut. His growl turned to a guttural howl when he swore again and shuddered against her, pushing weakly twice more before he finally stilled.

Their panting breaths were loud against each other's ears, his bowed head resting against one of her shoulders. Her legs were shaking and trembling with the effort it took to keep them locked around him, and she tightened her grip around his shoulders lest she fall. He moved his hands to cup her behind and crossed swiftly to the bed and sat, then fell back when she rested her knees on either side of his hips. He pulled her down with him, letting her lay across his chest, which she knew was quite a concession as he hated the feeling of being held down, and was always on top of her or above her when they coupled. She kissed the side of his neck lightly in acknowledgement and gratitude at the implied trust and deference to her preference of being held afterwards.

He turned his head and kissed her so softly and sweetly, that she ached from the tenderness of it. He slipped out of her as he softened and she sighed at the loss and nuzzled his chin, pressing little kisses to his lyrium lines that he had recently told her never hurt when she touched them, which seemed to amaze him.

Her first inclination was to crack a joke to fill the silence, but she stifled the urge to keep from spoiling the rare mood. She looked up into his moss green eyes and smiled. One side of his mouth twisted into a teasing smirk before he broke the silence.

"Shall we call this match a draw, as well?"

* * *

Time passed, and Fenris and Aurah had been together for more than six months, having settled into the routine of slave and master when in front of anyone, her playing the part of subservient and obedient woman very convincingly, but their private interactions being far more honest and free of pretense. They swung back and forth between fighting and angry silences, mostly on Fenris' part, and periods of friendship and camaraderie, punctuated by bursts of passion they could not seem to wholly control. But underlying it all, they had both come to appreciate and rely on the unspoken comfort of each other's presence.

For reasons known only to him, Danarius had them continue to spend most of their time together, further honing their skills as fighters, and being forced to take on more foes at a time in their practices, or following him about the estate when it suited him. Aurah had learned to copy Fenris in his behavior toward their master, and through much study, she learned that Danarius had as much capacity for kindness and indulgence of his favorites, as he did for sudden, inexplicable bouts of cruelty.

His apprentice and assistant, Hadriana, was a far greater worry. There was a calculating coldness in her eyes whenever she looked at Fenris or Aurah, and both of them were careful never to do anything to provoke her, despite Danarius' favor toward them granting a certain amount of protection.

They had spent the afternoon in the Magister's study, Aurah kneeling near him so he could touch her or pet her hair as he had come to favor doing, or have her massage his hands or feet with some of her healing magic when he had overextended himself with difficult spells or during his private research. Fenris stood on the opposite side of the room against the wall, always on alert, armed and armored. Danarius had not allowed Hawke to carry a weapon on her person away from their practices, but should there ever be a true threat, she had her magic to fall back on.

Danarius patted her hand and leaned back in his seat, and looked to his bodyguard. "I have a task for you to attend to tonight, Fenris, and I will have our little bird to wait on me this evening while you are gone. Take Hawke back to your quarters to bathe and rest now, and then return to me and I will give you the necessary details of your mission."

"Yes, Master," Fenris murmured, moving to the door and opening it, then shutting it quietly behind him after Aurah stepped through. When they turned into their own passageway, she stepped close enough to whisper.

"Why is he separating us tonight?"

Fenris gave her a sharp look and shook his head, not stopping until they stood in their bathing chamber with the water flowing into the ornate bath, the sound covering their quiet conversation.

"It is likely I am being sent to eliminate some threat. It is not an unusual occurrence, though he has little used me in such a capacity since your coming. And I imagine he will wish you to amuse his guests if he is entertaining tonight, or just keep you close for his own enjoyment. You know he favors you ever more of late."

Hawke twisted her fingers together, picking nervously at her nails where she had already torn the skin before Fenris reached out to still her movement.

"But I have never had to be with him on my own. What if I do something to anger him? I still don't know how to properly interpret his moods. I wish he were more predictable."

Fenris laid his hands on the tops of her shoulders, gripping and releasing the tense muscles until she relaxed under him with a sigh. "You know what behavior is expected of you, Hawke. Obey every command given to you without question or hesitation, and Danarius will have no cause to be displeased. Remember, you are strong, with or without me near."

She drew a deep breath as he dropped his hands from her and nodded, then reached for the bare skin of his arm where his armor did not cover above his elbow, her brow creased with fresh worry. "You will be careful, won't you? Whatever task you are assigned, don't take unnecessary risks, and return as soon as you can."

Something warm and pleasant spread in his chest, and he smirked to cover just how much her concern affected him. "Do you think I will be so easily defeated? Have more confidence in my abilities, woman."

"I do!" she said, with wide eyes. "It's just..." Aurah tilted her head and smiled slyly. "Alright, as a test of your skill, you must return free of all injury. And if you don't…then you must submit to my healing. _Willingly_."

Fenris raised a bemused eyebrow and jerked his chin toward the half-filled bath. "Wash yourself as you have been bidden and hold your tongue. Lest I find a better use for it."

She huffed in reaction, her cheeks tinged with color and Fenris chuckled and turned toward the door, calling back over his shoulder. "I will see you when I return, Aurah. Be good."

* * *

Fenris leaned back in the carriage and ran a hand through his messy hair, sighing quietly in relief as they pulled into the courtyard of the estate. He was jumping down and striding toward the well to rinse off before the horses had come to a complete stop, eager to clean up and join Aurah for some much-needed rest. Dawn was still several hours away, but the night had been tiring, although more from tedium than any true challenge. Killing two mages while they slept in their beds had been no difficulty at all, and he hadn't even gotten a scratch on him from his efforts. Most of his time had been spent in the journey to their location and back.

During the return ride, he realized that for the first time ever, he was looking forward to getting back to the estate instead of dreading it. It _was_ more pleasant to curl up beside a warm, soft woman, although it had taken some time to get used to sleeping with another person. He had never been cruel enough to demand Hawke sleep on the floor when there was such a large bed in the room, not even in the early days when he dreaded her touch more than he had welcomed it. But he found now he could think of little else. In point of fact, he had spent much of the evening unable to think of anything _but_ her.

He slipped into their darkened room and crept quietly to the table where he stored his armor before he had a chance to clean it, and glanced to the bed. He frowned when he saw it was empty, the covers still smooth and immaculately made. He searched the bathing chamber and found it likewise empty. Like a ghost, he quickly and quietly searched all the likely places he could think of that Hawke might be, a growing unease twisting inside his gut the longer she remained missing. Turning into the kitchens, he met one of the house slaves coming out, and she dropped into a quick bow before him.

"Tell me, have you seen my girl, Hawke? She is not with Master and I have been unable to locate her."

The young elf darted a quick glance up, her eyes full of fear as she nodded, and answered in a quiet tone. "Mistress Hadriana sent her to sleep in the common quarters not an hour past." Her voice fell to just above a whisper. "I think...I think she is hurt."

His jaw tightened with anger and he nodded curtly before hurrying to the slave's common sleeping area, instantly picking out her huddled shape in the far corner of the room, lying on a thin blanket. He released a breath in relief to have found her, a small part of him having briefly feared that she attempted an escape without him, although he knew she would never be so impulsive or foolish.

Kneeling beside her, he placed a hand on her back to shake her awake, jerking away when she cried out in pain. When she didn't move further, not even to turn to see who was next to her, he leaned down to whisper to her. "Hawke, I must get you back to our room. Tell me where you are injured."

She lifted her head toward him, her eyes swollen from crying and face blotchy. "Everywhere." She laid her head back down and closed her eyes. "I was forbidden to heal myself until you returned."

His expression hardened. "Can you do it now? Heal yourself."

Aurah gave a small shake of her head, her eyes still closed. "I can't, I'm too weak to cast. I'm sorry, I tried to be strong, but I wasn't at all." Tears leaked from between her closed lids and Fenris felt the wild beast inside him roar, the hot well of anger that he always carried within him brought to a sudden, volatile boil. He plucked one of the stronger healing potions he was always kept supplied with from a pouch on his waist, pulling the stopper and bringing it to her lips.

"Drink this, it will help." She moved to comply, turning more on her side, and Fenris shifted her clothing so he could look at her bare back, needing to see for himself what had been done to her. Deep purple bruises were overlaid with lacerations and severe burns, the open wounds weeping blood or clear fluid from the burns; it was far worse than he had ever imagined her skin could look.

When she shifted, he saw the backs of her legs were similarly covered and hissed out a breath in sympathy. Clearly, she had not been beaten with a whip, but tortured far more cruelly. Feeling powerless and impotent in the face of her pain, he brushed her hair back from her face with a gentle touch and leaned closer, finally catching her eyes, the blue depths of them filled with torment.

"What did this?" he questioned, not fully able to keep the anger from his voice.

Her own voice was brittle when she swallowed down the last of the potion, but sounded stronger than it had before. "Demons." She closed her eyes again to concentrate, drawing power into herself, her body glowing with faint blue light for several minutes as the deepest of the wounds slowly closed and looked less angry before she sagged again with fatigue. "I can't do any more now."

Fenris removed his gauntlets and secured them to the back of his belt before he gathered her as carefully as he could and stood with her cradled in his arms. She sucked in a sharp breath in pained reaction and he brushed his lips to her forehead. "Forgive me. But you will rest more comfortably on our bed."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder. "I'm so happy to see you, Fenris, I can't even tell you." Her voice broke and he felt her tears wet his neck while he carried her to their room, heedless of the furtive gazes of the other slaves on them.

Within minutes of reaching their chamber, he removed her stained and damaged clothing, and had her lay on her belly so he could try to clean some of the blood from her skin with a wet cloth, where it wasn't too tender for touch. When she started to shiver violently, he quickly removed his armor and soiled clothing and slipped into the bed, pulling her against him to warm and comfort her.

When the worst of her shaking calmed, he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "Tell me what happened."

She searched his eyes, seeing the anger and frustration there and sighed, knowing she had no way to soothe it. "You know what happened."

"Hadriana," he spat. "One day, that _bitch_ will get what she deserves. I only hope I'm the one to give it to her."

Hawke followed one of the lyrium lines on his chest with a shaky finger. "She asked to take me for the evening to assist with practicing one of her spells, and Danarius agreed. She's always given me pause, ever since I first met her last month, but I never imagined..."

Fenris turned his gaze to the ceiling, as all the times Hadriana had tormented him played through his mind. "You're fortunate this is the first time you've been under her power," he said bitterly, then paused, his eyes drawn back to the black and purple bruises across Hawke's back, and the red burns that hadn't been fully healed. "Although, I can't say she ever loosed her demons on me. Did you...do something to provoke her?"

Aurah pushed herself upright, ignoring the rush of pain in her outrage and stared at him in accusation. "You think I did something to _deserve_ this?"

He sat up, echoing her position and turned his head to face her fully. "Tell me what happened. I need to know."

She lifted her chin, some of her old fire and defiance brightening her eyes briefly before they filled with sorrow again, her expression tormented. "It was blood magic. There was a little elf girl, only seven or eight, at most..." She looked at Fenris, her eyes begging for understanding. "She reminded me so much of Bethany when she was young. I couldn't just..." She rubbed a hand across her eyes, as though she could wipe away what she had been forced to witness.

"I begged Hadriana not to harm the child, I offered my own blood in her place, anything to stop it. The little one looked at me with such hope on her sweet face, as though she believed I could save her, even when Hadriana slit her throat." She stared down at her hands dully. "My magic was bound when we entered her work room. I could do nothing but keep my eyes fastened on the child's while she bled out. I didn't want her to die alone, and wished she could at least see that someone in this miserable place cared for her life. Even for those brief moments."

She swallowed and raised her eyes to Fenris, the tears following the path down her cheeks they had made hours before. "Hadriana loosed the demons on me right after. I assume in retaliation for my having opposed her. I couldn't even defend myself, just cower in a ball and wait for it to end or death, whichever came sooner."

He reached out and pulled her against him, so her head was tucked near his shoulder and she couldn't see the rage and sadness that twisted his features into a silent snarl. He laid down again and held her tightly when she fell into a restless sleep, shaking her awake from the grip of nightmares and murmuring soothing words against her ear.

There was something he might do to protect Hawke, and he was determined to try, even if he got nothing for his trouble but the lash. He decided that pain would be preferable to the one he currently suffered when he considered doing nothing.

It was well after dawn when he finally managed to snatch a few moments of rest.

* * *

~o~


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: For the bits of this chapter in Tevene, I used Latin.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

* * *

Aurah came awake with a start when Fenris lifted her off the bed, still wrapped in nothing but a blanket and started to carry her out of the room. She pushed against him feebly, still exhausted from the pain and lack of restful sleep.

"Fenris… I'm not dressed, take me back! What are you doing?"

"Be still," he commanded quietly, his face determined as he continued down the hall. "Master wishes to see to your injuries himself. It seems Hadriana overstepped herself in marking you without his consent." He smiled in dark satisfaction. "I have never seen him so furious with her before. Let us hope it brings her the trouble she deserves."

Hawke gasped and tightened her hold on his shoulders. "Did you tell him what happened?"

His lips tightened. "I did. He favors you more than any other slave apart from me, and I know how he particularly values your beautiful, flawless skin. I felt I had no choice but to inform him that his property had been damaged, and possibly permanently scarred."

She blinked, still staring at him wide-eyed. "But didn't you take a terrible risk by speaking to him about it without summons?"

He glanced at her quickly. "A small, calculated risk. I had to report to him early this morning regarding my task from last night, and when he made a casual mention of you I had ample cause to bring up your current condition."

"Oh," she breathed, focusing on the lyrium lines flowing down his neck and disappearing beneath his armor. She squirmed against him. "I can walk if you'll stop and let me down."

He continued walking, his stride smooth and unhurried. "Don't be ridiculous, you're in no condition to walk."

She frowned, the small amount of pride she still retained balking at being carried in the open for anyone to see, and as naked as the day she was born. "Damned, stubborn elf," she muttered, shooting him a disgruntled look.

He smirked and quirked a dark brow. "Correct on all three."

When they reached the Morning Room with bright sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains where Danarius was speaking with his steward, Fenris moved quietly to the one side of the room to wait until the mage finished his business and called them to him after dismissing the other man.

Fenris set Aurah on her feet and steadied her when she swayed with sudden dizziness, and Danarius clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I don't like the look of you already, little bird. Open that blanket, Fenris, and let me see the extent of it."

The elf complied after shooting Aurah a warning look when it appeared she would protest, but she quickly subsided with lowered head when her body was bared. Danarius stood behind her where the blanket was parted, his silence heavy as he examined her, his hand brushing carefully across her lower back, where one of the worst of the burns was. She bit her lip to keep from reacting to the pain and she heard his heavy sigh.

"Well, this won't do at all. Come and hold her up, Fenris. I'm going to have to use my strongest healing skills to repair so much damage, and she may not be able to stand on her own until it's complete."

"Yes, Master." He moved to stand in front of her and placed her hands on his shoulders, giving her a look that had her wrapping her arms around his neck tightly in response.

Danarius chuckled. "Ah, how well you've trained her to read your wishes, lad. I'm not sure I could do much better myself. Brace yourself, Hawke, this will feel worse before it gets better."

"I'm ready, Master," she mumbled quietly, her shoulders tensing when the power of Danarius' magic hit her with the force of a full blow against her. She swayed closer to Fenris automatically, in search of warmth when the spell froze her skin like ice, her burns throbbing strongly before the sharpest pain began to fade, slowly turning to a fuzzy numbness that tingled across her back, buttocks and legs, clear down to her feet, then stopped completely. Danarius slowly stroked a hand across the length of her back and bottom with just his fingertips, making her shiver at the coldness that still clung to his skin.

"And your beauty is restored, once more. Any pain, my dear?"

She glanced back at him over her shoulder and shook her head. "None at all, thank you, Master."

He grasped her shoulder and turned her to face him, blanket and all, surprising her with a gentle, quick kiss on her lips before he smiled genially. "You are quite welcome, my little bird. And do not fear, though Hadriana was naughty, she shan't be permitted the use of you again." He stroked a hand across her cheek, spreading the coolness there. "We don't want her spoiled, do we, Fenris?" He continued speaking before the elf could respond.

"You may go and rest for the remainder of the day, Hawke, and you are excused from practice for the next three days. I don't want you to strain anything in the meantime, and I do want you to be sure and eat more as well, I can see you've lost a bit of weight lately and I don't prefer it."

He fixed his gaze on his bodyguard. "I've ordered that both your meals are to be finer and plentiful. Has that been obeyed, Fenris?"

"Yes, Master," Fenris replied, meeting Danarius' pale blue gaze with his own. "We are fed very well, and with more than enough for the two of us."

"Good." Danarius paced to a bookcase and plucked a tome from the shelf. "Aurah, come here."

Her head jerked toward him in surprise, her eyes wide. She had never told Danarius her first name, but realized that Fenris must have mentioned it at some point, disappointed that something that had been special and private just between them, apparently was no longer. She adjusted the blanket more securely around her and hurried to the Magister.

He opened the book and angled it toward her, with a curious look. "Can you read, my dear?" Her eyes moved across the page, realizing it was a book of magic theory and spells, and nodded.

"Yes, my father taught me when I was just a girl."

His mouth twisted in amusement and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, I was quite certain you were able to read. Would you like to take this and study it while you are resting for the next few days? You could really stand to broaden your base of knowledge and improve your magical talents. I can teach you much, if you would like to learn."

She gasped in astonishment, not quite believing what he was proposing. "I'm... _allowed_? To...to _read_ , and to….learn? From you?" She continued to stare stupidly at his whisker-covered face until he chuckled and shook his head.

"Ah, my naïve little Hawke. You are allowed to do anything and everything that I permit you to do, and if you please me, I may see just how far I can push you to grow with your mage skills." He extended the book and she took it, stroking a hand across the leather cover in appreciation.

"Thank you, Master, sincerely. I don't know how to properly express my gratitude for such a gift." She smiled up at him, sincerity and happiness shining from her eyes at the prospect of reading books again and a Magister offering to help improve her magic.

Danarius looked at her silently for a moment, a slight smirk playing about his thin lips. "That smile is payment enough for now." He stepped forward and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, his sudden increase of affection and the addition of his kisses making her blush uncertainly and lower her gaze.

"I have an important social event coming up soon, a party, here on the estate, and it will be the perfect time to show off my prized slave with his own slave. I want you both in peak physical condition, and that is to be your priority. I cannot stress enough how important that is."

"It will be done, Master," Fenris said quietly, while Hawke swallowed down a renewed spike of nerves she could never keep in check for long around Danarius, and nodded with head still bowed.

He dismissed both her and Fenris, and she shuffled from the room under her own power, a small smile blooming when she looked down at the book she carried in one hand while she clutched the blanket closed with the other, squealing in surprise when Fenris swept her up into his arms once more.

She had opened her mouth to protest when she caught sight of his brooding gaze staring straight ahead, and clamped her mouth shut again. She knew from experience it was better not to poke an angry tiger and disturb him when he was in a foul mood. On a whim, she kissed the corner of his mouth and nuzzled closer against him, bumping her nose against his ear, the white strands of his hair tickling her skin.

"Thank you for arranging to have me so swiftly and properly healed, and thank you for saving me from Hadriana. I am forever indebted to you, kind ser."

He glanced at her, his expression changing swiftly from anger to sadness, and he sighed. "I don't know that I've truly done you a kindness today, Hawke. I suppose time will tell." He shifted her against him, his arms tightening unconsciously around her as new fears and dread took root in his mind, his voice growing quieter as he seemed to almost be talking to himself. "I only wish I knew how to save you from Danarius."

* * *

The following day, Hawke was curled up in bed, perusing the loaned book and luxuriating in the rare feeling of being allowed to do nothing all day, nibbling at the delicious array of foods that had been brought for her. She had even found herself entertaining the notion that maybe not all slaves had it so bad before she realized it and gave herself a mental slap. Perhaps the privileges granted her were making her too comfortable. She reminded herself to guard against complacency, or she would never be free.

The door swung open and Fenris strode into the room wearing a black look, not even sparing her a glance as he headed for the bathing chamber and shut the door forcefully behind him. Hawke sat blinking in confusion, trying to put her finger on what was different about him, when she realized there was something off about his gait, usually so graceful, and there was tension and lines in his face that she had only noted previously when he was... _injured_.

Biting her lip, she looked to the closed door, debating her actions before creeping off the bed and sneaking close to put her ear against the door to hear water running into the bath. She pushed the handle and the door swung open, revealing Fenris only partially clothed and staring at the water as it filled, his face blank of all expression. Her hands rose and covered her mouth in horror at the mass of angry, red marks all across his bare back, crisscrossing the lyrium patterns on his skin, several of them open, bleeding cuts.

"Fenris," she choked, beyond shocked to see the most favored of Danarius' slaves wearing common whip marks. In all the months she had been in the house, she had only seen the elf be well treated and complimented, having thought he was far beyond any such punishments. What could have happened to change it?

Her eyes rose to meet his, where he stared back at her over his shoulder, his lips twisted angrily. Her mouth opened and closed before she finally found her voice, though it sounded small to her own ears.

"Why?" It was all that would come out, her ability to articulate deserting her completely as she glanced across the angry lines again before looking to him to explain.

He turned the handle with a sharp twist, cutting off the running water and gave a low, bitter laugh. "Are you still such a fool to ask me why?" He turned and stalked to her, grabbing her hair in one hand and yanking hard, forcing her head back suddenly, an involuntary cry spilling from her at the sudden pain. He released her just as abruptly with a disgusted look, staring down at his own hand in contempt and avoiding her questioning eyes. When he met her gaze again a moment later, his own eyes were as hard as stone.

"With masters, there is no asking why." He stroked the same hand he grabbed her with previously, softly against her cheek, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "One moment you may be rewarded with a pat on the head, and the next, the same hand can strike you dead or bring you so much pain you would wish for death." He stared at her for another moment, studying her expression and the sorrow and hurt in her eyes before he leaned forward and kissed her cheek where her tears ran down her face, his eyes sad. "And there is no reason why."

He turned from her, but before he could step away, she snatched his hand, stopping him. "Let me heal you. _Please._ " Fenris tugged on his hand, trying to free it, but she held tighter.

"No, Hawke." He twisted his hand sharply, breaking her hold, but she went to her knees and wrapped her arms around his legs, looking up at him imploringly. She shed no more tears, but the ones on her cheeks still caught the light, sparkling like gems.

"Please let me. Please, Master."

He scowled and looked away, reaching down to tug her to her feet. "Don't call me that. Not when we're alone."

She reached out and grasped his chin, turning him back to meet her regard, her blue eyes snapping with determination. "Then don't treat me like a slave. Treat me as a friend and let me ease you. Your pain is mine. I swear I will not hurt you further. I _swear_ it. Will you let me?"

He released a breath and finally nodded. "Very well. But be quick."

Hawke pressed her lips together to hide her triumphant smile and moved to stand behind him, blue light already glowing from her hands as she very gently closed the cuts on his back, then continued pouring her light into him in warm, careful waves, until the last of the welts faded away completely. All that remained were old scars and the glowing pattern of lyrium, lit brightly from the touch of her magic. She leaned her forehead against his back and pressed a kiss to an old, silvery scar standing out against his olive skin, stilling when his muscles quivered under her lips. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you now?"

"No." His voice was rough like sandpaper, but there was a warmth when he glanced back at her. "Far from it. Your touch is always...pleasant. I suppose it should stop surprising me that your magic feels the same."

She stepped around him until they were standing face to face, her hand clutching at her chest dramatically. "Did you just compliment me? Be still me heart!"

His mouth turned up in the hint of a smile, but there was still a gravity in his green eyes. "I should...thank you. I do not mean to be churlish in the face of your kindness."

Hawke grinned. "If you weren't churlish, I would hardly know you. It's part of your charm."

Fenris grunted and moved back to the bath, turning the water on again. She followed close behind.

"Aurah, I..."

Her brows furrowed with a sudden thought and she pressed closer to him, cutting him off. "When did you tell Danarius my first name? I must admit I was surprised when he used it."

Fenris pulled her against him, his mouth at her ear, speaking quietly. "I didn't. I have never told anyone, but the walls have listening ears here. It is why we must have a care as to what we say aloud."

She frowned, feeling even more uncertain and vulnerable than she ever had before, realizing just how much she had to lose now if Danarius ever decided to separate her from Fenris. She knew she had developed some confused feelings for the taciturn elf, but hadn't acknowledged just how deep they ran until she saw the whip marks on his back.

It made her want to rip off Danarius' head and shit down his throat. She didn't get angry easily, having always had a long fuse, but when she did, it was a deep, slow burn that took a long time to extinguish. For all his false kindness and token attempts at generosity and benevolence, she could see very clearly the full picture of just what Danarius was: a small, cruel man, drunk on his own power and influence. She would see him dead, if it was the last thing she did. Even if he took her down with him, it would be worth it to rid the world of his presence.

Laying his hand against the side of her cheek and neck, Fenris leaned closer, catching her eyes. "No, Hawke, not yet, you must master your impatience. We said when the time was right."

She didn't question his meaning. It was obvious he could read the look in her eyes just as well as she had learned to read his. "Fuck him," she spat contemptuously.

His green eyes glittered with intensity, prefacing the tiniest upturn of his lips. "I would much rather fuck _you_ ," he murmured.

Aurah blinked and breathed a surprised laugh. "Since when do you talk dirty?"

"Since now," he smirked. "More of your influence, no doubt. You are quite a foul-mouthed woman."

She gave him a saucy smile, deciding it might be a good time to try out some Tevene she had overheard from one of Danarius' visiting acquaintances, thinking Fenris might appreciate it since he constantly swore in that language. " _Mihi irruma et te pedicabo_ ," she said confidently.

Fenris stared at her, his eyes narrowing slightly before his lips twitched. "I will agree to the first, but not the second."

Frowning, she tilted her head. "What do you mean? The first and second what?"

He coughed to cover a laugh, and lifted a brow. "You have no idea what you said, do you?"

"I asked you to take me, in...Tevene?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice and the beginnings of a blush coloring her cheeks.

Fenris choke-laughed, no longer fighting the slight smile breaking through his stern expression. "You said: 'give me head and I'll ass fuck you'."

She slapped a hand over her mouth and chortled. "What! That's what that means? Wait, I can still get this...what about... _futuere_? Or _futue te ipsi_. Are either of those right?"

"Get fucked'," he deadpanned. "And the second is 'fuck you'." He leaned forward and ran his nose along the side of her neck. "Which is the one I choose."

Aurah smiled, her hands resting on his bare, lean-muscled arms, feeling the inaudible hum of the lyrium under her hands that made everything in her vibrate. "Are you asking, or telling?"

He pulled back with a frown, his eyes gone serious again and a sudden tension in his shoulders. "Asking. You are free to refuse, and I will always honor your no." He started to pull away and she moved into him, lacing her fingers together behind his neck.

She smiled sweetly. "And I'm asking you right back. Now that we have that figured out, shall I.." She ran a hand down the front of his trousers and looked up at him through her lashes, biting her lip. "...practice my skills?"

Fenris tilted his head, a considering gleam in his eyes. "No, not now. Your terrible Tevene has actually given me another idea. Take off your clothes."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she teased, pushing down the low cut, dress-like thing she had been lounging in, and stepped out of it, then looked at him expectantly.

He nodded toward her smalls. "Those, as well."

She raised her eyebrows, but removed the smalls without further comment, curious as to what he was planning. When she stood before him completely bare, he tugged her against him and kissed her. Warm, wet, drugging kisses, that had her clinging to him and swaying on her feet, the pounding beat of her heart echoing in time to the increasing throb between her legs.

Fenris backed her into the edge of the tub, her bum just the right height to lean against it comfortably, then he started to kiss, bite and suck his way down her torso. He paused only briefly at her breasts to taste both of her nipples, then he was on his knees, lifting one of her legs to rest on top of his shoulder. He looked up at her, and she held her breath when he moved forward and dropped his eyes to her cunt and spread her open with his fingers before licking a slow swipe up her drenched sex. He flicked his eyes back up to her when she shuddered, then he latched onto the hooded nub at the top and sucked, circling his tongue there.

Aurah gripped the edge of the bath to anchor herself, animal sounds falling from her lips that she could neither control or stop. Never had she felt anything so powerful, so all-encompassing, the pleasure just shy of too much. But, oh, what he did with his tongue after he had worked two fingers inside of her was beyond bliss. Her entire world narrowed to the movement of his tongue and the pumping of his fingers, curling to brush against something inside that made her clench around him and pant in anticipation.

He held her spellbound, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him as long as he kept staring at her with such intensity. Without warning, the building pleasure could go no higher or be sustained any longer, and the wave broke, dragging her along with it, involuntary muscles clenching, shuddering and shaking her while her eyes slipped closed and she wailed something unintelligible.

Fenris was still slowly moving his fingers inside while she gradually came back from that faraway place of ecstasy, and he was kissing the top of her thigh, along the crease where her leg met her hips, and the kiss felt like he was comforting and reassuring her. From what, she didn't know, but she was touched by his tenderness.

When he pulled away and slipped her leg off of his shoulder, she gripped the bath's edge even harder, her legs like jelly, or the consistency of the grainy mush they used to eat for breakfast in Lothering. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue and tried to remember how to form words, then let out a breathy laugh when that proved too challenging.

He stood, a glimmer of satisfaction and maybe even humor in his eyes, though he did not smile. She reached for him and he pulled her against him, supporting her weight while she tried to stop the trembling in her limbs.

"I think you broke me," she joked weakly. "Nothing is ever supposed to feel that good, and probably never will again."

Fenris smirked and she rolled her eyes. "Alright, yes, you smug bastard, that was amazing and life-changing. I'm going to establish a new religion and declare your tongue a holy relic. Are you satisfied now?"

His eyes darkened, and he dipped his chin, hovering just above her lips. "I'm nowhere near satisfied yet, and neither are you. But you will be."

When he bent her over the bath soon after, and plowed her like a virgin field in the spring, Aurah discovered that Fenris had not lied, and she still had a great deal to learn from the tattooed elf.

* * *

~o~


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

The day of the dreaded party finally arrived, and Aurah's nerves were in shreds by midday. She was bathed, plucked, groomed, scrubbed, perfumed and coiffed by a trio of female elf slaves, who were so silent and subservient, never daring to meet her eyes, that it made her already iffy stomach feel even more sick.

Danarius had ordered that she and Fenris rest in their rooms until evening, and she was escorted from the grand baths back to their chamber by a pair of house guards. It struck her as odd as they had never accompanied her anywhere before, but since she was always with Fenris when she left the room, she supposed it made sense. Couldn't risk a still uncertain new pet trying to scamper out of her cage.

She entered the room, stopping to stare at a new armor stand next to the one that held Fenris' armor and sword. It displayed another, smaller set of armor, similar in style to his, but with red accents, and obviously made for her. Beside it rested a quarterstaff, much like the one she practiced with, but with a blade on one end, just like her old staff. She was surprised to see that her armor included boots, unlike Fenris.

He was sitting in a chair across the room from their armor, nursing a glass of wine, and looking as solemn as ever. She jerked her chin toward the leather boots where they rested on the floor. "What do you make of that? I thought slaves were not permitted any type of shoes."

He set aside his glass and stood, coming to stand beside her as he perused the armor. "Human armors always include boots, and since you are not an elf, and are not traditionally accustomed to fighting barefoot, it stands to reason that Danarius would want you appropriately attired."

Hawke smiled, wondering if Fenris noticed how much his speech had changed around her in the time they had been together. Previously, he never referred to the Magister as anything other than 'Master', but since they had first whispered together about attempting to escape, he called the cruel mage by his name when they spoke privately, more and more.

She sat on the floor and tugged on the boots, wiggling her toes against the soft leather. "It feels strange, after so much time with nothing on my feet. I hope I don't trip and fall on my face during our little battle."

Fenris said nothing, his expression pensive as he reached out a hand to touch her breastplate, where a small, attacking hawk had been worked into the design, with talons extended.

"Fenris?"

He looked down at her, his expression closed and guarded, and she sighed. "He told you, didn't he? Exactly what he commands us to do tonight? Won't you just tell me? I had rather know now so I can prepare myself, than to be surprised later." She yanked the boots off again and stood, reaching for his hand to tangle her fingers with his. "You know you can always tell me anything, no matter how distasteful."

He regarded her gravely for another minute, then tightened his hold on her hand. "You remember the first day we sparred together?" She nodded and he continued. "When Danarius commanded us to kiss, while he...watched?" Hawke swallowed and nodded again, her face going pale. "He wants that, and more from us. He said he wants our performance to be enemies to lovers, as he put it. Like some play that is currently in favor among them all, apparently."

She backed away from him, shaking her head, his fingers slipping away from hers. "So, he...he wants us to kiss again as the finale of our fight, and that's all? Right, Fenris, that's all he wants?"

The muscle in his jaw throbbed angrily, but his eyes stayed locked to hers. "You know that isn't all. What do we do every day after we return from practice, of our own volition? He _knows_ , Aurah, whether through spies or he has secretly watched, but _that_ is what he requires, and we cannot refuse. He would beat us, torture us, and beyond that, he would take you away from me."

Hawke stared at him in numb silence, then laughed a moment later, the sound bordering on hysterical. "So, that's it. We're supposed to fight and fuck, right there in front of everyone, as they enjoy their fine wine and Orlesian crepes." She looked away, her eyes still wide with disbelief. "What kind of place _is_ Tevinter, that this is acceptable entertainment for their high society? Don't they have any shame?"

Fenris continued to watch her, his expression tight. "No, they have no shame, they heap it on the many slaves they force to their bidding so that they never have to feel it. I have been a vessel for their shame at a number of these... _parties_. It's not pleasant or comfortable, but I've survived it, and so will you."

She took another step away from him, shaking her head vehemently. "Fenris...I...no, I can't do it. I _can't_!"

His expression darkened and he covered the distance between them in two steps, seizing her arms in a firm grip. "You must! Do you have any idea how gently he is treating us? From him, this is true favor. Stop acting like a spoiled child! He might have decided instead to pass you around to a hundred men, who would use you even as the blood ran down your legs and you cried in agony from the abuse. To the point of death! I've seen it!"

She sobbed brokenly at his words, the horror of someone being treated in such a way too ghastly to contemplate, and knowing that he was right, that they were being treated well by Danarius' standards...the standards of a monster. Something died inside of her in that moment, and she bowed her head and continued to weep, feeling lower than she ever had before, and wondering if it would even be possible to rise from such a depth.

Fenris cupped her cheek, gliding his thumb through the stream of her tears, his eyes soft again as he gentled his voice. "If you will try to trust me in this, I will do all I can to shield you, but I say again, you are stronger than you think." He pressed his lips to her forehead and pulled her into his arms. He had never realized how comforting it could be just to hold someone you cared for and be held in return. It was one of many surprising things Hawke had taught him.

When she had calmed, she lifted her head and met his eyes and gave a single nod, a measure of determination replacing the grief, fear and panic of moments before. "Alright. We're going to do this. Damn them all. It'll just be like our daily routine really, but dressed for performance. You lead, and I'll follow."

He gave her the tenderest smile she had ever seen from him and ran his fingers gently through her hair and against her cheek, before he smirked. "Or you could lead, and I will follow if it makes it easier for you."

Hawke sucked in a surprised breath. "But, you always like to be the one in control."

He pursed his lips. "I do, but as I said, if you feel it makes it less daunting in the moment, I am willing to switch roles."

She bit her lip to stifle the smile that was suddenly trying to break free. "Fenris?"

"Yes, Aurah?" His lips also seemed to be twitching on one side.

"You know you're really the kindest and most thoughtful person. Why, underneath the fierce wolf is a sweet, adorable puppy. If anything...happens tonight, and things go bad, I want you to know that I truly do lo.." Fenris placed a finger over her lips before she could say anything more. She sighed as he slowly took it away. "You really aren't going to let me say it? Not even once?"

He shook his head, a tinge of sullen sadness in his green eyes. "Not unless we're free. Until then, it's only useless words, and an empty dream." He took her hand in his. "But know that meeting you has been the most important thing to ever happen to me, and for that, I'm grateful."

* * *

Evening arrived, and the estate of Magister Danarius was abuzz with laughter, conversation and the tinkling of crystal. As guests began to arrive, they were ushered into the south gardens where they were served drinks and trays of finger foods featuring cuisine from Rivain and Antiva. Wandering acrobats and fire-eaters provided casual entertainment, and droves of slaves moved quietly between the kitchens and the garden, efficiently ensuring the comfort of the gathered elite.

Hawke stared through the barely parted curtains of one of the small libraries where Fenris had brought her that overlooked the courtyard, so she could satisfy her curiosity as to what other Tevinter Magisters might actually look like. She thought Danarius was surely a rather poor example with how unattractive he was, but after watching guests arrive for half an hour, she finally stepped back from the curtains with a frown.

"Disappointing. Most of them look so...ordinary. And a number of them border on physically repulsive."

Fenris raised a bemused eyebrow from where he leaned against the wall, fully armed and armored. "What did you expect? That people who perform blood rituals, consort with demons and sacrifice children would be beautiful?"

She opened her mouth and closed it, and then tilted her head and squinted at him. "Yes? But even Ferelden peasants, on average, are a damn sight better looking than this lot." Hawke flopped onto one of the plush couches, careful the small spikes on her gauntlets didn't threaten the fabric. She and Fenris had been dressed and ready for more than an hour, and it was just a matter of waiting to be summoned.

Fenris moved to stand in front of her, his arms crossed as he looked down at where she reclined. "Why do you think Danarius has been so eager to show you off, despite being a relatively new acquisition? Such beauty as yours is not commonly seen among the Magisterium's elite."

"Lucky me," she grumbled, propping her boot-covered feet on the table in front of her. "They removed all of my body hair earlier, you know. Is that another fetish here, that a woman must be hairless everywhere below the neck?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing slightly. "On the whole, yes. It is certainly Danarius' preference."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "What an odd conversation to burden you with. I assure you, I have never once discussed the hair on my genitals with anyone before now. My mother would be scandalized! Where is my breeding?"

Fenris gave an amused smile. "I am happy to converse on any topic with you, Hawke. I always find our conversations...stimulating."

She was interrupted from replying by frantic shouting, followed by loud barking. Hawke froze with wide eyes before launching from the couch to look out the window, then gasped. "I thought that sounded like a mabari!" She turned to wave Fenris over, and they watched a large, golden mabari baring its teeth at three house guards, keeping them back, while a handsome and elaborately dressed, blonde-haired Magister laughed before finally clapping his hands to summon the beast. The dog ran back to his side, stumpy tail wagging and tongue lolling. Hawke had her face nearly pressed against the window, until both dog and mage were out of sight.

She sighed and smiled sadly, turning back to Fenris. "That was like seeing a little bit of home. And that one was quite good looking, for a Magister."

He made no response, but took her arm instead. "Come, we must return to our room until we are called. I have indulged you as long as I could; we can linger here no longer."

Hawke threw a final glance over her shoulder in the direction of the window and allowed him to lead her away.

* * *

The vast ballroom was filled with the din of conversation as the dinner drew to a close and the bevy of dancers finished their routine to polite applause and then withdrew, leaving the center of the room that was surrounded on all sides by banquet tables, empty once more. Slaves dressed in the house colors of their owners circulated around the room, effectively attending to the needs of every guest.

Danarius stood with a relaxed smile and nodded, and a slave stepped away from the wall and struck a bell three times until all conversation quieted and every eye in the vast room was turned to their host.

"Honored friends, guests and colleagues, thank you for attending my little get-together this evening." A titter of laughter ran through the crowd, as the gathering was anything but small, and Danarius grinned in acknowledgement. "I truly hope you have enjoyed yourself thus far, and if there is anything at all you need, don't hesitate to speak to any of my household slaves. And speaking of slaves, we now come to the highlight of the evening."

He turned as the doors at the far end of the ballroom flung open, and the crowd's attention turned when Fenris stalked into the room, exuding aggression and animal grace, his lyrium markings flaring brightly as he drew his sword, bringing an amazed gasp from many who had never seen the elf previously.

"Many of you are familiar with my research, and with my creation of my slave, Fenris, as a lyrium warrior. The lyrium markings give him special abilities, and increase his already impressive martial skills."

The double doors near Danarius opened next, and curious gazes followed Aurah's entrance, her chin lifted proudly as she walked with hips swaying, until she faced the elf. She drew the bladed staff from her back and twirled it once, a burst of swirling force magic rising from her hand in challenge.

"I'm pleased, now," Danarius went on, "to introduce you to a recently acquired slave, and a new favorite of mine from far Ferelden. Her name is Hawke, and as you can see, she is as beautiful as she is fierce. I have gifted her to Fenris to mould and train, and he has done an admirable job. Please enjoy as they battle together as only they can. I give you, the hawk and the wolf!"

Musicians tucked away in the far corner of the vast room began to play, building the tension as Fenris and Hawke circled one another, as they had done so many times before. Hawke shot a bolt of electricity at Fenris, and he lit his marks and flashed away before her spell could land. He swiped at her with his great-sword, and she dodged and rolled, coming to her feet again in seconds.

The dance continued, the suspense in the room growing as Hawke sustained a wound to her arm when she wasn't quick enough to avoid the elf's sword, and a dark bruise blossomed on Fenris' cheek when Hawke slammed him against the floor with one of her strong force spells. The entire fight was choreographed carefully and had been practiced half a dozen times, right down to the minor wounds, but none of their movements looked even the slightest bit rehearsed, their audience enthralled and eager to see what the outcome would be.

Fenris disarmed Hawke, and when she started to summon a fresh spell, he flung his sword away and tackled her, rolling across the floor before he restrained her and lifted her to her feet and pulled her against him, her back against his front. He placed an armored hand across her forehead and tugged her head back to bare her neck, then placed hungry, open-mouthed kisses from her ear down to the juncture where her shoulder met her neck, then bit her sharply there, drawing an involuntary moan from her that brought answering murmurs and applause from the spectators.

"Trust me, now," Fenris murmured, his teeth tugging on her earlobe, and Hawke knew he was asking for her permission, as he always did, despite the circumstances, and she smiled and reached back to pull him to meet her kiss, pouring her feelings for him into it, as she had never done before, her heart in her eyes when he moved back to gaze at her while a look passed between them that was brief but said more than mere words ever could.

"I do," she whispered, brushing her lips again his in a barely-there caress. "You lead, I'll follow," then she bit his bottom lip hard enough to sting and Fenris growled, the beast inside him surging to the forefront and taking over. His hands flew across the clasps of her armor, throwing the freed pieces aside, and hers did the same to his. They fell easily into their shared passion, and when his mouth closed hungrily on her bared breast, her eyes slipped closed, and in her mind, she was instantly back in their room again as the crowd faded away and her awareness narrowed to Fenris, and the welcome pleasure of his familiar touch.

* * *

The heavily armored bodyguard shifted his weight where he stood near the mage he guarded, his fist clenched tight as sweat beaded on his furrowed brow, outward evidence of the difficulty of his internal struggle. His attempt to keep his expression impassive was failing, and he finally leaned forward to whisper in the mage's ear.

"Get me out of here now, or I can't be responsible for my actions. That's my _sister_ out there, for Maker's sake," he hissed in a low whisper.

The mage smirked, his eyes never leaving the woman and elf as they began to undress each other, still kissing passionately. "Take the dog and wait in the carriage, Carver." He pulled the younger man closer by the back of his head, making it look like a lover's embrace as he whispered against his ear. "And get control of yourself. We do not deviate from the plan, no matter what. We are already committed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master, as you command," he said, loud enough for any listening ears to easily pick up. He motioned to the mabari laying nearby and slipped out the closest door, the dog right on his heels.

The blonde mage inhaled a breath, enjoying the spectacle before him, despite the fact that he was surrounded by enemies, if they only knew what he had planned… He drained the wine in his glass, and a woman who had been eyeing him appreciatively all evening came and sat beside him, leaning close, and giving him an ample view of her cleavage.

"I hope you're enjoying the entertainment, Danarius always gives the best parties. I don't believe we've met, I'm Livia."

Smiling engagingly, the mage's gold eyes traveled the woman's form with obvious interest. As the warriors in the center of the room continued their arousing performance, many of the guests had begun to look around them with lust, pairing off in quiet corners, or slipping into rooms prepared for such a purpose in larger groups, or having slaves service them openly before their peers. The blonde mage couldn't have asked for a better outcome to the evening.

"No, we haven't met," he murmured, reaching out to kiss her hand. "I've only recently returned to my ancestral home, here in Minrathous. I'm Vindictus Aequitas, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

Her grey eyes brightened with further interest. "Oh, I've heard gossip that the heir to the Rarus dynasty had returned, but I had no idea you would be so..." Her eyes swept him again. "...pleasing to the eye."

He ran a hand across the skin of his muscled chest where his expensive robes left him bare, watching as she followed his movement and licked her lips before he spoke. "I think it would be to our benefit to become better acquainted, Livia, if that is agreeable to you. Either here or in a nearby room if you fancy privacy."

Livia's red lips lifted in a smile and she reached out and replaced his hand against his skin with her own, pinching one of his nipples lightly. "I prefer right here, where everyone can see us." Boldly, she lifted his robes and groped him, finding him long and hard, with no smalls to impede her wandering hands. She knelt between his legs and gave him a coquettish smile. "I can't wait to taste your cum on my tongue, Vin."

His smile was wicked as he pushed her head down. "By all means, be my guest." He closed his eyes and tipped his head back as his pulse quickened, a part of him laughing at the madness that was Minrathous high society, where you could go from introduction to sex in less than five minutes.

Opening his eyes again as Livia sucked his cock with a whore's expertise, deep-throating him and humming, he focused on the beautiful, naked mage in the middle of the room being vigorously fucked by the tattooed elf, and imagined it was him buried balls deep inside her, hissing out a breath as he hardened further, wondering what her magic would taste like against his tongue.

 _Aurah Hawke._

The very woman he had come to save.

* * *

~o~


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

Hawke and Fenris slipped out of the ballroom after gathering their equipment and swiftly redressing in their clothes and armor. Hawke tried not to stare at all the loud and open rutting going on all around them, but found it impossible to ignore. There were tits, cocks, and bare ass for miles. Nothing she had heard about Tevinter orgies had actually prepared her for the stark reality, or starkers reality, as the case may be.

She was trying _not_ to think about the fact that she and Fenris had just had sex in front of hundreds of people, or acknowledge that she had enjoyed it immensely and actually felt a bit of a thrill with all the eyes on them. What kind of person did that make her?

Fenris took her arm to lead her away, and they walked to one of the passages used only by slaves. Just inside the doorway, a brunette elf woman wearing the black and red house colors of Danarius, stepped into their path and bowed low before them.

"Please follow me, I am to lead you to where Master wishes you to wait for him."

She took off at a brisk pace and they followed her without comment, Hawke becoming lost in her thoughts again while they navigated a maze of halls, doorways and rooms. It was only when Fenris yanked the other elf to a stop that Hawke realized how far they had gone, nearly to the outer courtyard where all the carriages were.

"Where are you leading us?" Fenris asked in a menacing hiss.

The slave didn't flinch or cower away from him, just looked beyond him to Hawke and extended her free hand, showing a gold trinket she had clutched in her palm.

"Flemeth's locket," Hawke gasped, instantly recognizing it. She looked at the female elf in astonishment and witnessed a complete transformation of expression. Gone was the frightened, subservient slave, and a clever, dangerous looking person stared at each of them in turn.

"I'm Miri. Carver says we must hurry, there is little time left to us to flee."

Barely two heartbeats passed as Fenris and Hawke locked eyes before Hawke reached out and took the locket and pulled Fenris away from Miri, then nodded.

"Lead on, we will follow you."

They made it to the far edge of the courtyard, where Miri knelt and pulled three dark cloaks from behind a dense bush and distributed them, waiting until they were all covered. A moment later, they were crouched behind the tallest hedge, and Miri put her hands to her mouth, and made a sound exactly like a calling nightingale.

The loud barks of a dog sounded very near by, and Miri jerked her chin in that direction, then began to creep from carriage to carriage, keeping to the inky shadows, and Hawke and Fenris followed closely behind. They stopped beside a very large, ornate carriage, and the little elf opened the door and silently slipped in, beckoning them to do the same.

"There are compartments to hide in beneath the cushioned seats," Miri whispered after she shut the door, closing them in complete, pitch black. "You'll have to be in the large one together, and I'll take the smaller one."

Through touch alone, they managed to get the benches open, and Fenris and Hawke placed their weapons at the bottom of the compartment after removing the cloaks, then climbed on top of them while the lid was lowered over them, sounds of fabric shifting as the cushions were rearranged on top, then all fell silent a moment later.

Time turned into a slow eternity of endless seconds as Hawke lay pressed against Fenris, his front to her back, sweat beading on their skin and dripping off of them in the tight, hot space. She had pulled off her gauntlets when they laid down, and so had Fenris, and she reached for one of his hands, squeezing his long, slender fingers in her grip. She had been fighting panic since they climbed in, never having liked the feeling of being in a tight space, and the extreme heat made it that much worse.

Sternly, she tried to order herself to be calm and relaxed, but her heart galloped ever faster and her breath rushed in and out in louder and louder gasps as her panic grew. All the armor they wore on top of their clothing made the feeling of being trapped intensify. It took everything in Hawke, every drop of her will to keep from throwing off the lid of the hiding place and bursting out. Cooler air suddenly flowed across the sweat on her neck and cheek, and she sighed at the blessed relief, the panic slowly and surely beginning to recede as she gained control over herself once more.

Finally, she loosened her death grip on Fenris' hand and he stopped blowing on her after another minute. "Better?" he asked in a mere thread of sound, his lips against her ear. She nodded and squeezed his fingers again in gratitude, and they settled into more hot waiting, both of them going tense when the carriage rocked and they heard someone climbing in, the distinctive clank of armor and the low whuff of a dog sounding very nearby when one of the doors slammed shut.

Someone settled on the bench above them, and Aurah and Fenris froze, scarcely daring to breath, in their bid to be completely silent and avoid discovery. They jostled around in the tight space when the carriage began to move. After they traveled for a short while, the sounds of the galloping horses grew louder as a whip cracked and their pace increased.

"Aurah, are you alright?" came a voice from above their hiding place, and sudden tears sprang to her eyes as she choked out a reply.

"I'm here, Carver. We're fine." Fenris tightened his arm around her when another voice spoke.

"We'll get you out as soon as we can. Just a bit longer, to be safe. It should happen any time now..."

Silence fell again for another small eternity, until a loud boom of thunder sounded, and the carriage vibrated with the force of it. Carver's voice spoke again, tinged with amazement.

"Holy shit! Was that it?"

The other man answered, his voice low. "Yes, that was it. Let's get them out."

Bright light blinded them when the top of the bench was thrown open, the lantern light flooding the compartment. Carver pulled Aurah out and hauled her into a bone-cracking embrace when he sat down with her on the opposite bench, then held her at arm's length to look at her.

"You look well enough, but are you truly?" His brows furrowed, and she could see the distant fear lurking in his eyes that she had suffered every time she wondered what had happened to her brother. She plastered on her most confident smile to try to reassure him.

"I'm perfectly well, but what about you? Any injuries I need to heal?" Feeling eyes on her, she glanced over to see the very same Magister she had watched from the window with the dog, then glanced down to see the mabari regarding her with what she could only describe as a doggy smile. She nodded to the richly dressed man. "So, what exactly is all this? Am I to understand that we're _your_ property now?"

He laughed and Carver smiled and shook his head, looking over as the petite elf, Miri, settled next to him, having been liberated from her cramped hiding place.

"Well, not that I wouldn't enjoy being master to a woman like you, in a very different and fully consensual setting, but I'm not really a Magister. My name is Anders." His smile widened and he winked when Fenris tensed where he was crouched on the floor of the carriage, and glowered at him darkly. Anders freed his shoulder length hair from the tie holding it back and shook it out, his smile fading. "Suffice it to say, Danarius took something very precious from me, and justice demanded I take action. With any luck, he is lying dead now with his debauched guests, beneath the rubble of his ruined palace."

Aurah gasped, exchanging a look of hope and disbelief with Fenris. The tattooed elf shifted and frowned. "You...killed him? Are you certain?"

Anders shrugged. "Unless he grew wings and flew away before the explosives went off, I'm fairly certain. It's unlikely anyone on that side of the estate survived such a blast."

Looking down, Aurah swallowed against a tight throat. "But...all those people, even the slaves too? You killed innocents?"

He nodded, his expression troubled. "It is regrettable, of course, but there was no other way to accomplish it. Danarius was far too well protected, and I had no wish to die in a doomed attempt to confront him." He smiled gently, catching Aurah's gaze. "Perhaps a quick death is preferable to a life of slavery and extended suffering."

"You know nothing of the life of a slave, mage," Fenris spat in a low voice. "Don't pretend to."

Anders crossed his arms and regarded the angry elf in front of him bristling with aggression, his markings glowing faintly. "Perhaps not, but I spent most of my life as a prisoner under the power of some very cruel jailers, and that's not a life worth living. I can't imagine slavery under the Magisters would be any better. But if you find you prefer it and want to go back, we can stop and let you out."

Fenris growled in anger, half rising with clenched fists, and Aurah leaned forward and rested a hand on his arm, drawing his eyes to hers with a pleading look. His anger drained from him and he nodded, lowering himself back into a seated position.

Aurah sighed. "Where are we headed now? I assume you have the next step planned out." She looked between Anders and Carver.

Carver leaned forward and ran a hand through his dark hair. "There's a ship just outside the harbor. And there's a smaller boat we'll take to row out to it. The captain is a friend of Anders, and has promised she can take us as far as Rivain. Beyond that, we'll have to figure out how to get to Kirkwall on our own and find mother."

"You'll come with me, won't you, Fenris? Come to Kirkwall?" She gripped her hands tightly together and held her breath while she looked at him.

He gave her a ghost of a smile. "I will go with you, Aurah. As I told you before that I would."

She smiled. "Good, that's settled then. Now, to make it to the ship."

* * *

Fenris picked up his sword and secured it to his back, then climbed the rope ladder, the last one off the little boat they had rowed all the way to where The Siren's Call was anchored. He and Carver had rowed them there, the two of them being the only ones with sufficient muscle and endurance to accomplish the task. He hopped lightly over the railing and landed on the deck, and Hawke pressed close to him.

"I think that woman there is the captain," she said with a nod toward a scantily dressed, dark-skinned, busty woman, who was obviously flirting with Anders, Carver and Miri before she cut her gaze to the couple standing against the railing.

She approached them, her hips swaying provocatively and smiled. "Aren't you two a welcome sight for the eyes? Welcome aboard. I'm Isabela, captain of this ship and gateway to your freedom. I'm sure you're tired after the long night you've had." The captain glanced back at the blonde mage and smiled. "Anders can get you all settled while I see to getting us underway."

Hawke smiled. "Thank you for your help. Fenris and I owe you our lives for getting us out of Minrathous."

Isabela laughed. "Don't worry, you sweet thing, Anders has already paid me very well to get you all to Rivain. But if he hadn't, I would have let you earn your passage." She smirked. "In some pleasant way or another."

Fenris sighed, realizing he would have to get used to listening to other people flirt with Hawke, and Isabela chuckled while she watched his expression. "Ah, I think I see signs of a jealous lover, hmm?"

Hawke tilted her head and gave Fenris a warm smile, while he ignored the captain's comment. They both followed Anders when he called them, down into the hold to the small cabin they would be sharing. Carver, Fenris and Aurah all removed their weapons and armor, stacking everything in piles near the door.

There were only two cots there, so Anders went to keep Isabela and Miri company on deck, claiming he was not yet tired enough for sleep. Carver looked at the white-haired elf and frowned and waved at the cot closest to him.

"Aurah, you can sleep over here with me."

She snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Carver. You're much too brawny to share a cot with anyone, and Fenris and I have shared a bed for more than half a year. I'm not sure I would even be able to sleep without him."

Carver blushed and half turned away from her. "Well…. Just mind you don't do anything _but_ sleep, not with me in the room."

"Really, brother, I think we're capable of controlling our urges for a few hours," she said dryly. Narrowing her eyes, she smirked, amused that Fenris and Carver were both blushing. "Although, if I experience an overpowering need to ride Fenris like a horse, I'll warn you first."

Fenris coughed awkwardly while the youngest Hawke sat on the edge of his cot and glared at her. " _Maker_ , Aurah, why are you this way?"

She wiggled her toes once freed of boots and shrugged. "You'd be bored if I wasn't. How exactly did you manage to hang on to Flemeth's locket?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "What, like it was hard?" Carver laid back on the cot, laced his hands together and rested them beneath his head.

Aurah put her hands on her hips and stared at him. "You weren't searched? Or stripped and bathed by house slaves?"

His brows furrowed and he shook his head. "Never. But...that means you were?"

"Yes." She glanced at Fenris, who was staring down at his hands with a dark look.

"Danarius was always particular about how he wanted his slaves kept, and newer slaves especially." Fenris met Carver's eyes briefly, then looked away and walked to the cot and laid down, turning to face the wooden wall.

Carver grunted and scrubbed a hand across his face, then yawned. "At least that bastard is dead now." He rolled over and curled up and closed his eyes.

Aurah went and sat on the edge of the cot beside Fenris, took a deep breath and released it slowly. So much had happened so quickly, and she hadn't really had a chance to process it all. She had drempt of escape every single day she had spent in captivity, and now, they were…

She laid down and wrapped her arms around Fenris' waist and buried her face against his back. Aurah breathed in his scent and shuddered, whispering, "We're free, Fenris. _Free_."

"Free," he murmured.

In time, he hoped to discover what that really meant.

* * *

~o~


	11. Chapter 11

**A quick note on characterization: You may feel in the next several chapters that Fenris is sometimes out of character, especially with his interactions with Aurah, and he certainly would be if this story followed the game events. But remember, in this AU, he and Aurah have been together for the better part of a year, living as a couple and growing close during their mutual suffering under the burden of slavery. This Fenris never escaped Danarius on his own, and didn't keep running and fighting against endless hunters all by himself, therefore he is far less feral and hate-filled. Aurah has been slowly chipping away at his hard shell for quite some time, and that's reflected in how he responds to her. Also, sex is one of their coping mechanisms, somewhat like a drug, so that's why they default to it. A _lot_. Please keep all this in mind as the story progresses. **

**I hope you silent readers are enjoying the tale, and a shout-out to my one and only reviewer. :)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

* * *

Fenris slept very little the first night they were on the ship, feeling far too restless and unsettled. He was out on the deck, having taken his sword and Hawke's staff to tend to the blades and sharpen them, when Carver stumbled out of the hold and plopped down on the deck beside him. Early morning light peeked in and out of a thin, grey cloud cover, and a warm breeze gusted intermittently.

Carver watched Fenris for several silent minutes, his brows drawn pensively while he fiddled with the laces of his boots, finally drawing a breath to speak. "Aurah was crying and jerking in her sleep after you left. When I touched her to try and waken her...she _screamed_. I don't..." Carver paused and swallowed, then met the elf's eyes with an angry glare. "I've never seen my sister like that before. Did something happen to her?"

Setting aside Aurah's staff, Fenris stifled a bitter laugh before it could escape and gave him a bland look. "Yes, something happened to her, it's called slavery. Did you experience it at all? It seemed from some of your earlier comments that you were more fortunate."

Carver winced and nodded. "Yes, I guess I got lucky. The bastard who bought me ran into Anders after we left the market and challenged him to a duel. After Anders won, I apparently became his. He recognized I was a fellow Ferelden and took me to the estate where he was staying, then offered to free me, but I told him I couldn't leave without my sister. After a time, he told me he was impersonating some heir to an important family so he could plan how to get to Danarius." He shifted and cracked his knuckles loudly. "It was through his information and spies that I found out where Aurah was, and we planned everything out together. It took months of preparation and waiting for the right opportunity."

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy, dark hair. "I guess I didn't think of what she might be going through. I just assumed slaves would have to wash clothes, or do other chores, cooking and such. I expected blisters and sore back to be the worst that might happen to her."

Fenris looked down, his white hair falling forward and obscuring his eyes. "Slaves owned by Danarius got much worse than that. Common house slaves could be whipped at any time, for no reason at all, and your sister was spirited and defiant, although far from common. In the beginning, she drew the lash more than once before she became a favorite of our master, which was better for Aurah in some ways and worse in others. Beyond that, her experiences are her own to tell, if she chooses to. It is not my place."

The elf made to rise and Carver reached out and gripped his arm to stop him. "And what of you touching her the way you did at that damn party?" he asked in a low and threatening voice. "I should kill you for that."

Narrowing his eyes, Fenris stared unflinchingly at the younger Hawke, struck by his familiar fierce anger and pronounced resemblance to Aurah, right down to their proclivity for touch. Her constant, gentle touches over time had helped him overcome some of his aversion to it, but not where others were concerned. If it weren't for the fact that Carver was her brother, he would have attacked him for such an offense.

"You are certainly welcome to try, but know that our actions were what we were commanded to by Danarius to entertain his _guests,_ " he spat. "To disobey would have meant torture, possibly death. I did all I could to shield your sister from harm, but in Tevinter, a slave's influence is extremely limited."

The battle of wills and silent staring went on for another minute, the tension growing in the air between them before Carver finally looked away and released his grip on Fenris. "I should have been there to protect her. I hate that I wasn't."

Fenris stood and gathered the weapons, then hesitated, his back to Carver. "I believe it will relieve Aurah to know that your experience did not mirror hers. I know she...worried."

He descended into the hold and Carver fully turned his gaze to the open sea, watching the rising swells and the foam and splash of salt water. If it weren't for his reddened eyes, the wetness on his cheeks might even have been blamed on the spray blown across the deck by the wind.

* * *

For the next three days, a storm raged, keeping the passengers below decks, while Isabela and her crew worked to keep the Siren on course. More than once, Aurah had poked her head out into the driving rain to see Isabela at the wheel, laughing in delight while she fought the elements. The fact that the captain seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the challenge before her, made Aurah smile before she ducked back down and closed the hatch.

The five passengers often slept in shifts, much like the crew. Isabela had afforded them a third cot, but even with Aurah and Fenris sharing, it was still inadequate for them all to sleep at the same time. When they were awake, they sat at the bolted down bench and table in the ship's small galley, chatting or playing with the old deck of cards Miri had produced. If not exactly all friends, they were at least becoming familiar with one another, and the close quarters meant they spent a lot of time bunched together.

"Maker's breath," Carver moaned, his head in his hands and a bucket in easy reach. "How long is this bloody storm going to last? I think I'm liable to turn inside out from getting sick so often."

Aurah laid a gentle hand on his hunched shoulder. "If you come back to the room with me, I'll put you to sleep for a while."

He shrugged her off with a weak glare. "Don't coddle me, sister. I'm not eight years old anymore."

She stood and smirked, pulling him to his feet beside her. "Really? Apart from your size, I don't notice much difference."

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, but allowed her to steer him back toward the little cabin at the other end of the ship.

Anders chuckled and turned a page in the book he was reading. "Carver is more bark than bite." The mabari, Drake, lifted his head and whuffed, sounding like he was in agreement. Aurah was back minutes later, and Anders smiled.

"So, you adapted an entropy spell for domestic use? Is there any school of magic you aren't proficient in?"

Blushing, Aurah looked down and slipped into the empty seat beside Fenris where he was playing cards with Miri, her shoulder brushing his. "It's actually the only entropy spell I know, and I'm crap at it in a combat setting. When my father first taught it to me, the twins were both babies and very fussy. Quite by accident I ended up putting them to sleep. They slept for nine hours straight, and my mother was so grateful, she begged me to use it whenever they were impossible to get to bed." She chuckled in remembrance, catching Fenris' amused glance.

"Even so," Anders said with a shrug, "few mages can easily command spells from so many schools, and you're not even truly Circle-trained. Didn't I even hear you mention that you can heal?"

At her nod, he smirked. "See? You're special. Apart from my healing spells, I can only cast ice and fire offensively, and I can get just enough of a spark of chain lightning in my fingertips to be good for bed-play."

Miri laid down her winning hand so Fenris could see and cut her eyes to Anders. "Is that the electricity thing that I've heard Isabela mention more than once?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Anders nodded, managing to look both smug and sheepish at the same time. "Yes, that was when we first met at the Pearl, in Denerim, after one of my many escapes from the Circle."

Aurah squinted, her lips twisted in thought. "You use magic during sex? But wouldn't you take a risk of injuring your partner? Especially with something as volatile as lightning?"

Anders lips lifted in the barest hint of smile, but his gaze was intense when he looked at her. "It's all about control, sweetheart. I would be happy to tutor you in the finer uses for magic in the art of love. There's nothing quite as awesome as two mages coming together for pleasure enhanced by magic, there are even special spells..."

Fenris stiffened and growled low in his chest, and Aurah quickly laid a hand on his leg beneath the table, even as she fought a blush at the surprising boldness of the other mage. "Um, that's very...generous of you, I'm sure, but I'm afraid I'm a one elf kind of woman."

Standing, Anders glanced at Fenris and stretched casually. "Well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind. I think I'll go and have a little rest while a cot is free."

Miri shrugged and stood. "I'll come with you. I feel like a lie down too. Anything to pass time until this wretched storm breaks." The dog rose and trotted closely after Anders.

With their departure, only the sounds of the raging storm remained, and Aurah rested her cheek on one of her fists, her eyes trained on Fenris and the angry expression he wore. He locked gazes with her, his lips tightening. "If that mage keeps goading me, he's going to end with my fist through his chest, and good riddance."

Her lids swept down to veil her eyes, hiding her amusement. "He's just a flirt, Fenris, it's a part of his nature, like Captain Isabela."

He scoffed. "No, his panting after you goes well beyond mere flirting. I don't trust him and neither should you."

She reached for his hand on top of the table and lifted it to her mouth, brushing her lips back and forth across his hand before pressing a light kiss there. He watched her, some of the irritation smoothing from his features when she moved nearer to him, smiling. She kissed his jawline, then moved to flick her tongue along the edge of his ear, then sucked the tip.

He gripped her shoulders to pull her closer, then groaned when she repeated the caress. "Why do you torment me, woman, when there is no hope of relief here?"

"Isn't there?" she breathed into his ear. "We're alone. You could always bend me over this table."

"No. We can't." He pulled away, but she followed him, still kissing his neck and ears.

"Hmmm, and I say we can. We're free to do whatever we please. If you want me, take me, love. I'm yours."

Her use of the endearment flustered him, making his insides flip oddly, but her kisses were making him ache with desire, overriding his caution. After the way the mage followed her constantly with his eyes, it would be a lie to say he hadn't felt hot, rage-inducing jealousy riding him strongly since before they set sail. The thought of another man's hands anywhere on her, touching her intimately, hearing her moans, tasting her….

He fisted both hands in her hair suddenly and tilted her head back so he could look in her eyes, now soft with desire. His voice was low and intense. "I wonder… Are you truly mine, now that you are free to choose some other?"

"Fenris," she said in a low whine, and gripped his arms. "Now you're the one tormenting me! You _know_ I'm yours. Please? I need you now, and not just for sex."

He looked in her eyes and beyond the obvious desire, she freely showed him the rawness of her emotions, her fears and uncertainty, the joy of their new freedom coupled with the pain of knowing so many had died so they could attain it. Much had changed for them, and more swiftly than either of them could have imagined. He knew she wanted to lose herself in their shared passion that had often been salvation for both of them during the most difficult trials they had faced. He wanted it too, craved it, craved _her_ as much as he ever had.

Nodding decisively, he glanced around, then pulled her into a tiny alcove for provisions that was more hidden, shoving a barrel closer and pushing her against it, kissing her with a desperation that she echoed while she worked his fitted trousers open and stroked his hard length, pumping him in her hand to tempt and tease. No words were spoken while he freed her of clothing from the waist down, crouching to immediately press his mouth against her bared sex to taste her and test her readiness, a tingle of arousal shooting through him at her familiar sea-foam taste on his tongue. Impatient and more than ready, she pressed against his shoulder and he stood, spinning her to lean over the barrel, then drove into her in one, strong thrust. She sighed and he swore in Tevene, as he always did, pulling her even closer as his eyes slid closed.

There was no other place, nothing else in life he had ever experienced that made him feel the way he did when he was inside her, connected in the most intimate way that only seemed to exist between the two of them. He didn't know if it was possession, belonging, or possibly even love, but it went beyond mere desire and words seemed wholly inadequate to describe it.

Perhaps it was devotion. He had never been religious, but she had come into his world of misery and despair and offered salvation in her arms as only a true goddess could. Worship, then. Others were welcome to the Maker and his Andraste, but he had never felt a need of them. He had Aurah, and he far preferred to believe in her than some elusive concept of absent deities. With her welcoming body and gentle kindness, she took him to the only paradise he ever wanted. Anything else was unimportant.

The surging storm outside raged in unbridled ferocity, much like the wildness between them. The sway and heave of the vessel aggressively tried to topple them, but the elf constantly adjusted his balance to accommodate the erratic movement. It almost seemed that the storm was a third partner in their tryst, trying to force them to the floor in submission, but Fenris would have none of it, easily mastering the yawing pitch, while keeping to his own vigorous rhythm.

Arching into him while she shook with each of his strong thrusts, she looked back and whispered his name, reaching a hand out. He laced his fingers with hers and leaned over so he could kiss her neck, then bit into her shoulder sharply when she clenched around him.

" _Venhedis_ , you're so tight like this." He panted with the effort of holding his orgasm back, then reached around to stroke her clit, rubbing her own wetness in a circling stroke she could never withstand for long. When she started to tremble, he growled his command. "Now, Aurah, _come_!"

She keened and obeyed, overwhelmed with sensations of pleasure, milking his cock and destroying the last of his control, forcing him to give in and empty inside her, surrendering to his own all-encompassing peak while their movement gradually tapered off to stillness.

Fenris shuddered and leaned more of his weight against her until he could stand straight again, pulling her up with him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and slowly slid from the haven of her body, the beast inside him purring in satisfaction as his spending dripped from her, knowing she was now covered in his scent while it mingled with her own, inside and out.

They set their clothes to rights, then he pulled her into his arms again, kissed her softly and held her, pressing his lips against the dark hair across her forehead, a small curl to his lips when she sighed happily and tightened her arms around him.

"I love you, Fenris."

More relaxed than he had been since their escape, he didn't immediately panic at her words as he would have before, but considered them carefully, brushing her hair back so he could look into her blue eyes, shining brightly with contentment.

"I am uncertain I know what love really is, but I have... feelings for you, Aurah, whether I express it in words or not. I do not wish for us to be parted in future." He tilted his head, his brows furrowed. "Is that...enough for you?"

She grinned and tightened her hold on him. "You're more than enough for me, just as you are." Her eyes softened and grew misty when she reached up to stroke his cheek, smiling again when he leaned into her touch. "And you need not worry about ever putting it into words. It is our actions that truly define us. Because of your actions, you now hold my heart in your hands, and I trust you not to crush it."

He smiled fully, a truly rare gift, and rested his forehead against hers. "Then as you are mine, I am yours."

* * *

~o~


	12. Chapter 12

**I didn't have as much time to edit this chapter, so hopefully it reads okay. Also, I had to cut it in kind of a weird place, but the next chapter is half done, so if I get time to write tonight, I will update again tomorrow.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

* * *

After the storm passed, it was another full week before they made port in Llomerryn. The early morning sun shone brightly and a pleasant breeze blew the smells of spices and cooking meat from the open markets to the cluster of docked ships along the quay.

Anders, Carver, Fenris and Aurah had gathered their few belongings, and were preparing to depart. Anders had decided to go with them to Kirkwall, mabari in tow, while Miri had chosen to accept Isabela's offer to join her crew.

The pirate captain twirled a small throwing knife between nimble fingers and looked them over a final time, all of them but Anders wearing dark, concealing cloaks. "Mind you keep to the main marketplace unless you want to attract attention or trouble, and the Racy Red is the tavern you'll want to find a ship to take you on to Kirkwall. I would be tempted to take you myself, but I already have another job lined up, and time is money."

Smiling, Aurah stepped forward and hugged Miri, then grasped Isabela warmly on the shoulder. "Thank you again for all you've done for us. If you're ever in Kirkwall and have need of wayward apostates, or a couple skilled blades, don't hesitate to look us up."

Isabela winked at the three men behind Aurah, before pulling her close and planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth, grinning at Fenris' frown. "I just may do that, Hawke. One never knows which way the wind will blow, and any port in a storm, as they say."

Carver stepped forward. "Where should we go to sell our armor? Aurah and I will have to do that first before we have enough coin for passage."

"No, that won't be necessary," Anders said with a shake of his head. He drew a heavy purse from the bag he wore over his robes and reached for Carver's hand, then dropped it into it. "That's your share of the spoils we absconded with, courtesy of Vindictus Aequitas."

The younger Hawke's eyes widened as he tested the heavy weight in his palm. "You're giving me all this? Why?"

Anders shrugged and glanced at the brunette elf. "Without the help of you and Miri, I would never have been able to pull everything off with such success and ease. I settled with Isabela and Miri already, and you are certainly due a share for your part."

"But without your help, I could never have freed my sister," Carver protested, offering the purse back to the mage.

Chuckling, Anders turned a brief, warm smile to Aurah. "It was my absolute pleasure to help free another mage, I assure you. What else are friends for? And I think after all the time we spent together, Carver, we can at least call ourselves that."

Aurah grinned in relief and laced her arm around Fenris'. "Well, I'm glad that I shan't be required to strip the clothes from my back in the middle of the marketplace to afford passage, after all," she joked.

Isabela sheathed her knife and smirked. "You might keep it in mind as a backup plan, anyway."

"Aurah will not be stripping in any marketplace," Fenris scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the pirate. "Not now or _ever_."

Carver shoved the purse down into his sister's shoulder bag, given as a parting gift by Isabela, and raised a brow at the elf. "At least we are in agreement there. We'd best be going if we're to get anything done before nightfall."

They walked down the gangplank onto the pier, with Anders and the mabari in the lead, quickly getting swallowed up in the sea of tents and tables, strewn with colorful wares of every kind. Aurah was entranced, Llomerryn's market easily dwarfing any other she had ever seen, including Denerim. She frequently stopped to exclaim over a delicately wrought bracelet, bottles of soap with sweet scents or silk scarves, fluttering in the breeze. Carver turned from a brief conversation he had with Anders and rolled his eyes at his sister's back, leaning down to speak a quiet word in her ear.

"Anders and I are going ahead to the tavern Isabela mentioned, to ask about any ships headed for Kirkwall and have something to eat and drink." He fished a few gold from the bag she carried and pocketed it discreetly.

Aurah nodded, fingering a tortoise shell comb wistfully, much like one her father had given her and had been lost during their flight from Lothering. "Alright, brother, Fenris and I will meet you both at the Racy Red." She glanced at the elf, who nodded briefly, his sharp eyes keeping watch on the crowds of people around them, rather than the things for sale.

The buxom woman behind the table stepped closer, dark of hair, skin and eyes, and smiling in welcome, her colorful green skirt topped in many scarves that were wrapped tightly around her to draw the eye to her full, womanly shape.

"Ah, a pretty comb for a pretty girl, no? And I have a special price, just for you, only forty coppers!"

Fenris clicked his tongue in annoyance and glanced back at the woman, his expression full of disdain. "That's pure robbery, gypsy, and you know it. It is barely worth fifteen."

She laughed, taking the elf in with a measuring glance, her eyes lingering on the marks on his neck and chin that shimmered a pale blue in the sunlight. "I see your man is a clever negotiator, and has the look of danger about him too. That makes him very good in bed, yes, and with such a voice?"

Aurah looked down with a blush, unaccountably flustered by the strange woman, and the new side to Fenris she had never seen before, out in the real world among normal people. The woman laughed again, even louder, and reached out and pinched Aurah's cheeks lightly, surprisingly drawing a small smile from Fenris where he stood and watched them.

"Look at how you blush like an untried virgin!" She turned her dark-eyed regard back to Fenris, smiling slyly. "I bet she still tastes of it too, no?"

The elf narrowed his eyes at the woman. "We will give you thirty for the comb _and_ the red scarf; that's our final offer."

The woman pressed a hand against her ample bosom and widened her eyes appealingly. "But ser, how will I feed my children on so little, with my husband lost at sea? Have some mercy for a woman raising five children on her own."

Aurah's eyes softened in sympathy, and she opened her mouth to agree to whatever price the woman wished, when she felt Fenris squeeze her hand in his, and turned to catch his warning look and closed her mouth once more. He flicked a finger at the dark woman and nodded to the thick silver bangle around her wrist.

"You have no children, and my offer stands, but not for much longer."

The woman threw back her head and laughed, all while gathering the comb and scarf, and extending it to Aurah, who stared in surprise when the gypsy winked at her. "He is very shrewd. A good catch to guard your coin and fill your bed, young pretty. You could do much worse."

"But not better," Aurah quipped, counting out the coin into the woman's eager hand, who dropped it into a small, soft satchel that she kept hung around her neck, then tugged Aurah's hand back into her own, flattening it open and holding it up to the light.

"Let Keziah have a look at your palm, eh?" She traced one line with a face gone serious, then frowned at another, before lightly touching a third, her dark brows climbing high with a look of surprise. She looked back and forth between the woman and elf with a thoughtful expression, before catching Aurah's eyes with her dark gaze and leaning close.

"There is uncertainty on the road before you, lovely girl, but also a dark cloud of evil lurks, always watching. Enemies will disguise themselves as friends. Joy and prosperity, both will be yours, but sorrow in equal measure, and beware the nameless threat from the shadows. Never falter in your vigilance." She turned and pointed a finger at Fenris. "It is up to you to guard her well from that which will try to devour you both."

"I forge my own path, _witch_. Keep your predictions to yourself," he said in a low and menacing tone. He took Aurah by the arm and steered her through the crowded bazaar, stopping briefly to ask for directions to the tavern they sought. Hawke mulled over the merchant's words and warning, fighting against a shiver of foreboding, and finally remembered a point of curiosity from the exchange and glanced at Fenris, noting his fierce expression and immediately wishing to calm him.

"How did you know she had no children, something in her manner gave it away?"

He slowed their rapid pace slightly and nodded, his brows drawing together. "Her people travel all over Thedas, but even in Tevinter their customs remain the same. A single silver bangle declares marriage, but a mother of children is highly honored among them and always wears gold. One golden bangle for each child born alive."

"Oh, that's fascinating." She was struck again by just how knowledgeable Fenris was, despite being unable to read, which she intended to remedy when they reached Kirkwall and got settled. She smiled at him, overcome by a rush of affection and clasped one of his hands between both of her own. "There's so much I still have to learn from you, which reminds me… Just how old are you, anyway? I never thought to ask before."

He dodged around an old woman carrying a basket of fresh flowers and led them onto a quieter side street, branching off the main market. "I - - cannot say. You know I don't recall much from before my markings, and Danarius never mentioned it." He tilted his head, examining her face. "How old are you?"

"Well, this whole Tevinter detour has taken up nearly an entire year, so I suppose I'm twenty-five now." She furrowed her brows, realizing she had completely missed the anniversary of her birthing day while she was busy being a slave, not that it was really important. She felt Fenris' gaze and turned to find him contemplating her with a soft look in his eyes.

"I thought you even younger than that. Carver mentioned he is nineteen, and I assumed you were only a year or two older."

She squeezed his hand in reproach. "Maker's breath, are you saying I have a baby face?"

He glanced to the path ahead, then back to her, and she could almost feel his sharp green eyes lingering over each of her features, and began to blush, rolling her eyes when he smirked at her embarrassment.

"You have a beautiful face. Had we a home of our own and a calm and peaceful life, I could be content to gaze at it every night as a fulfilling end to each day."

"Fenris," she gasped in shock, her heart thumping wildly and the butterflies in her stomach taking flight. "I revise my previous opinion. Not only are you obviously knowledgeable about a great many things and well-spoken, you are also rather eloquent. I may be tempted to swoon."

His smirk deepened. "Should I be offended that you sound so surprised by this revelation?"

She laughed. "You can hardly fault me, when you used to spend much of your time growling at me and ordering me about." She slanted her eyes toward him and fluttered her lashes flirtatiously. "Not that your domineering, master persona doesn't have its appeal, because it certainly does. I can hardly think of our first night together without a quickened pulse."

He led them along a path beside a quick-rushing river, away from the crowds, his eyes turning sad. "I wish it had not happened the way it did. I hurt you, and I regret it."

She stepped in front of him and laced her hands behind his neck, forcing him to stop and meet her eyes again. "Don't say that. Everything that happened was for a reason, I have to believe that. Don't regret our past steps that have led us to where we are now. We have our whole lives before us, free to do as we choose."

He brushed the dark wisps of hair back from her face with a pensive purse of his lips. "I used to think that your tendency toward blind optimism and cheer, even in dark circumstances was another example of you being a fool."

Aurah chuckled, playing with his white hair that hung below his neck. "And now?"

He drew a slow breath and pulled her flush against him. "Now, I think it is not always a bad thing to have a different perspective from my own. Even if I don't agree, you are entertaining to listen to nonetheless."

Her smile turned to a look of mischief. "Don't think you're fooling me, I know this is really just your way of declaring you're madly in love with me. I'll add good taste and judgement to your long list of attributes."

Fenris shook his head, more amused than he showed while he stroked her cheek. "Be silent, woman, and give me your mouth."

"Gladly," she murmured, and tilted her face up to receive his kiss, pressing against his warm lips and sighing when he moved his caresses down her neck. "Fenris, _hydria mel meum_."

He pulled back and gave her an incredulous look. "I am...your honey pot?"

She giggled and kissed him again, unable to resist his half amused, half offended expression. "Come on, my Tevene has improved a little. If I only use endearments no one around us will understand, you will not be as embarrassed, correct?"

"I suppose," he said with a dubious frown. "It depends on what you actually end up calling me, as opposed to what you intend, as the two seldom seem to coincide."

She pulled the red scarf from her bag and wrapped it around his neck, searching her memory for all the Tevene she had gleaned just from listening to Danarius. " _Bellator fortis meus es tu_ , Fenris."

His expression clouded and changed to a look of torment. He turned his head away to look at the river and her heart fell to her toes.

"I'm sorry, did I say it wrong?"

"No." A muscle in his jaw clenched. "It was correct: 'You are my strong warrior, Fenris.' I heard it often enough from Danarius."

Aurah's hand flew to cover her mouth, realizing her mistake and cursing herself for a fool for not realizing how something like that would trigger bad memories. "Forgive me. That was insensitive and stupid of me. I'll never say it again."

Fenris pulled the scarf away from his neck and held it out, and she took it silently. "We should catch up to your brother," he said in a gruff voice. "The tavern is near."

He walked back the way they had come without meeting her eyes and she felt a lump rise in her throat and tears sting her eyes at the rejection. How could she have been such a Maker-damned _idiot_? Danarius was no longer their master, but his specter still lurked in their memories, always waiting to come out and destroy their happiness and comfort with no prior warning. How would it even be possible to guard against a foe that lived only in their minds?

Kicking a rock across the path angrily, she wrapped the scarf around her wrist several times and tied it off, making a mental note to ask Fenris why he had picked it when he was no longer upset.

* * *

By the time the tavern was in sight, Fenris was well ahead of her, his longer strides outstripping her own and his anger at her speeding his steps. She huffed as he disappeared through the door of the Racy Red, still some distance away, glaring at the sandy path at her feet, when she was brought up short, her path blocked by a bald, thickly muscled man covered in dark tattoos.

She slipped her staff off her back as she looked to the side, and realized there were other men closing in quickly, trying to surround her. She turned back to face the burly man, assuming he was their leader.

"Look, it's very nice that you all want to play, but I'm really not in a very social mood just now. If you don't get out of my way, I'm afraid I'll be forced to hurt you."

The tattooed man grinned, showing off the gap where his two front teeth should have been and flicked his tongue through it. "Go on. Hurt us. It sounds like a good time."

Aurah laughed and shook her hair out of her eyes. "Alright, but remember you asked for it, and I was kind enough to accommodate you."

The man in front lunged toward her, moving far more quickly than she would have expected of his heavily muscled form, but she blasted them all back in a telekinetic burst of force that threw her attackers to the ground. Before they could recover, she spun and channeled force through her staff, lifting them in the air and slamming them against the hard ground, wincing when she heard the crunch of more than one bone snap at the impact.

Sensing movement behind her, she spun again and smashed the blunt end of her staff into the big man's gut, her eyes widening when he laughed and yanked the staff from her hands, taking another step forward. Aurah crouched, pulling a greater swell of force through her than she had before and lifting him into the air and spinning him, with ever increasing speed.

"Have you had enough," she shouted at the twirling figure, "or shall I knock you out like I did your fellows?"

"Enough!" he cackled, continuing to laugh even after she dumped him unceremoniously on the ground, where he shook his head sharply and stood, eyeing her appreciatively. He scooped her staff off the ground and presented it with a graceful bow.

She took it warily, still keeping her attention on him even as she became aware of Fenris standing a short distance away, where it seemed he was keeping Carver and Anders from interfering. She winked at the elf, as she often used to, to tease him during battle against her, then turned her attention fully to her adversary when Fenris made no acknowledgement.

The man crossed his arms and grinned, his muscles bulging with the movement. "What is your name, _cara mia_?"

She lifted her chin and relaxed her fighting stance. "It's Hawke."

He tilted his head. "You are Ferelden." At her nod, he stepped closer, holding out his hand when she tensed. "Let there be peace between us. Please, allow me." She frowned, but didn't fight him when he lifted her hand, then bent and kissed it before releasing her. "I only wanted to ask you to join me for a glass of Llomerryn Red."

Aurah gaped at him. " _This_ is the way you ask someone to share a drink with you?" She waved a hand at the unconscious men on the ground and he laughed again.

"A little pain is good for the soul. Like the spice in the wine, it lets you know you are alive, _cara_. You can call me Tiny."

She laughed outright. "Either you are very poorly named, or it's meant in irony. There's obviously nothing tiny on you."

He smirked and pressed nearer. "It is irony, as you say. No part of me is small. Come with me and I will show you how much we can enjoy each other."

Fenris stepped near, his face set like stone. "Hawke, we are waiting for you. Come now."

Tiny looked at the elf, flicking his eyes across the greatsword sticking out from where it was sheathed across his back and the faintly glowing marks across his chin and neck. He returned his gaze to Hawke, a question in his eyes. "Bodyguard or lover?"

"My husband, in fact," she lied casually, and with a perfectly straight face. The man sighed regretfully and glanced at Fenris, deducing from his narrowed-eyed glare that he would not be open to sharing his wife with another man.

"Ah, well. We can still share a drink at the Racy Red. Do you have business on the island?"

Hawke nodded and sheathed her staff. "We came into port on the Siren's Call, and we're trying to book passage on to Kirkwall."

"You came in on Isabela's ship? That is good, I know her employer was getting impatient waiting for her return." He waved for her to walk with him. "Now you go to the Free Marches? Well, I think you are in luck. There are at least three ships in port here that make runs to Kirkwall. I recommend Captain Valdez. He has a fast ship and his fares will be reasonable." He smirked again and held the tavern door open for her to pass through before he followed. "Or they will be if I put in a word for my new friend."

Fenris shared a disgruntled look with Anders and Carver before he hurried ahead, determined not to let Aurah out of his sight again.

* * *

~o~


	13. Chapter 13

**I know that Llomerryn red in lore actually refers to a sauce similar to ketchup, but in this story, I've changed it to also be a very strong local liquor, a bit like Absinthe.**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

After nightfall, and many bottles of Llomerryn Red later, Carver was snoring softly where he rested his head on the table they had been sitting and drinking at with Tiny, and all his men who hadn't gone off in search of healing. Tiny filled Hawke's glass again and again, waving away her protestations that her eyes were starting to cross from the strong drink.

She really was beginning to feel alarmingly drunk, more than she ever had before, despite the hearty meal they had eaten, but remembered Isabela's warning that to refuse an offer of Llomerryn Red was the very height of offense on the island, and could likely incite a duel, or worse, and thought it wise to avoid any further fighting, if possible.

They had at least managed to meet Rodriguez, the first mate on the Dragon's Fire, Captain Valdez's ship, and arrange for the four of them to purchase passage when they were slated to depart in five days time. In the interim, it was decided they would take rooms in the tavern since it doubled as an inn; one room for Aurah and Fenris, to allow them to continue the deception of being a married couple, and a second being shared by Anders and Carver.

Fenris had taken a seat nearby with his back against the wall and sword resting against him,curtly refusing any offers of strong drink, which had prompted Hawke to fib once again and declare that he never drank as a matter of principle, refusing to defile his warrior's body with alcohol.

Tiny finally turned his regard away from Aurah and to the taciturn elf and nodded. "You any good with that blade?"

Having removed his cloak before he sat down, Fenris' armor and lyrium brands were on full display, the spikes on his gauntlets and pauldrons shining menacingly in the yellow glow of the tavern's lantern light.

"Good enough." He flicked his gaze across the room, having long before picked out the two men who lounged near the door and were obviously Tiny's true protectors, their distinctive face markings, leathers and many daggers revealing them for what they really were. "I could kill you and your guardian assassins in less than a minute."

The muscled man drummed his fingers against the table and slid his pale blue eyes toward the door. "Care to prove it?"

Fenris leaned forward threateningly and fully lit his markings, the blue lyrium bathing his body in a glow of power that made nearby patrons murmur in surprise. "Test me," he hissed, "and it will be your death."

Pursing his lips, Tiny studied him with interest before waving a hand at his guards, their postures returning from alert to relaxed once more. Hawke stiffened, preparing to rise. "Are you threatening my husband?" she asked in a menacing purr, electric sparks gathering at her fingertips.

Tilting his head, Tiny smirked. "A wife in love with her husband, that _is_ a rare sight. Relax, _cara_ , I was merely curious if your man's marks were like mine, or had another purpose, and I have my answer now." He leaned back in his seat and propped his feet on the table, slowly draining his drink and setting the glass down with a decisive thunk. "I have a proposition for you and your associates, if you wouldn't mind making some gold while you wait for your ship's departure."

Hawke allowed her magic to fade, but still sat tensely, no longer feeling as drunk with the sudden adrenaline coursing through her veins and readying her to fight. She glanced at Fenris in silent communication before looking back at Tiny, who had watched their interaction with great interest.

She glanced over at Anders, who had been nursing the same glass of ale all evening, realizing he had also been braced to fight alongside them, and felt the tension drain from her shoulders. She rubbed a hand across her tired eyes and nodded. "Alright, I'm listening."

Tiny shook his head. "Not here. Come to my place of business tomorrow, at the docks, after you have dealt with your hangover and we will talk." He grinned and stood. "Farewell, _cara_." He walked out of the tavern and all his men eventually rose and trailed behind him, some less sober than others.

Shortly after, Anders had managed to waken Carver enough to get him to stand and stagger toward the stairs, guiding him toward their room so he could sleep it off. Hawke was eyeing the stairs, wondering how well she would manage them and keep her dignity when Fenris rendered her musings a moot point, bending down to lift her into his arms, staff and all.

"Time for sleep, _wife_ ," he said in a quiet murmur, making her smile in amusement even as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the side of his neck.

"As you command, husband. In this instance, I'm really quite happy to obey." She was just starting to drift into a light doze when Fenris lowered her to her feet, closed their chamber door and pushed the lock into place.

A hanging lantern lit the space, revealing a bed large enough to sleep two or more, a wash stand with a jug of fresh water and a small table with two chairs. The single window sported thick, dark curtains, presumably to minimize daylight for those guests who woke after too much drink. The bedding looked clean and was in a bright, patterned style that seemed common in Llomerryn.

Hawke weaved her way to the wash stand and splashed some water on her face and dried it with the strip of linen provided, then pulled off her armor and weapons, letting them drop in a messy heap on the floor. Naked at last, she pulled back the bedding and climbed on top of the bed, lying back to stretch luxuriously and smiling up at Fenris, who was watching her with rapt focus.

She rolled to her side and patted the space beside her invitingly. "Come to bed, dearest. Since we have an appointment to keep tomorrow, I suppose we'll need our rest tonight. Curse all that wine I was forced to drink. I think the bastard did it on purpose, since it would have been an insult for me to refuse it."

The elf tugged off his gauntlets with furrowed brows. "It was deliberate. A petty vengeance because he could not have you as he intended."

Fenris methodically removed the rest of his weapons, armor and clothing, but left his trousers on, still uncertain of some attack that could come in the night, and not wanting to be completely vulnerable. He went to the window and examined it, checking to ensure it was bolted closed and secure.

"Do you think he intends us harm, or only wants to offer us some work, as he claims?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Fenris ran a hand through his hair, turning more to face her. "They are clearly a band of mercenaries, and some groups of the kind have a semblance of an honor code they keep to, although I cannot say if that is the case with this one. They are Antivan in origin, but I don't know enough of their culture and practices to make any kind of educated guess regarding their intentions, though I have killed a number of their Crow assassins that had been sent after Danarius some years past. The body count grew rather large before they apparently gave up."

Hawke chuckled and he raised an amused brow in acknowledgement before he continued. "If we do meet with him, I suggest all four of us go together and remain on our guard and wary while we hear him out. Whatever he wishes, it is likely outside the law. I do not know how you feel about that."

She rolled on her back and sighed, staring up at the ceiling overhead. "I don't know, it depends on how bad it is, I suppose. Who knows what the situation will be in Kirkwall? My mother's family has an estate there where my Uncle Gamlen lives, and is apparently rather important. But since I have never met them..." Aurah shrugged pensively. "Having more money is always helpful."

Fenris pulled a tiny vial from an inner pocket of his trousers, uncapped it and held it out to her. She took it and eyed it uncertainly. "What am I supposed to do with this?" She sniffed it. "What exactly is it?"

"A precaution against any poison you may have in your system." He pushed it to her lips and only relaxed once she had swallowed it down.

Hawke grimaced at the taste and sat up, mildly alarmed. "You think I was being poisoned with the drink? Then what about Carver? Should I go and check on him?" She started to crawl from the bed, suddenly fearful, when Fenris caught her arm and tugged her back, shaking his head.

"He had only a single glass, the same as the mage. They drank ale for the rest of the night, while you were given nothing but Llomerryn Red. It has a reputation for being very strong, especially for those unused to its effects, acting as poison and causing severe hallucinations and illness if too much is consumed."

Her eyes grew even wider. "But how do I know whether or not I had too much?"

He tilted her chin up and examined her eyes closely. "You are still lucid and your eyes appear mostly normal." He released her and ducked his head, his hair falling forward over his eyes. "It is likely an overreaction on my part, but I prefer to be cautious, than...not. You should sleep. Either way, the solution I gave you will make certain you are well by morning."

Fenris laid down on his back and closed his eyes, his hands resting loosely across his middle. Hawke blinked at him, but didn't move, her heart thumping madly against her ribs while she wondered how she was supposed to fall asleep now, after he had nearly scared her out of her wits. She looked back at him and found him watching her, his eyes open once more, and wondered idly if he had forgiven her for her earlier misstep or if she should try and bring it up again.

Aurah reached for the blanket and pulled it up to her chest and laid flat on her back, wide awake and thoughts jumping from one worry to the next, including the concern of what had happened to her mother after she and Carver had been taken. They had never seen Aveline while they were on the slaver's ship sailing to Minrathous, and a small part of her still hoped she was somehow alive and had looked after their mother when she and her brother were prevented from it. Though the practical voice in her head never failed to remind her that if Aveline _were_ alive, she would certainly have been taken and sold too, being very fit looking and certainly young enough to tempt a slaver to take her as goods.

"What," Fenris broke the silence hesitantly, "caused you to declare us as married?"

Happy to be distracted from her unhappy thoughts, Aurah rolled to face him with a small smile. "I was hoping to quickly and decisively establish that I was not on the menu, as well as provide a very clear reason for why we travel together as equals. Instantly becoming your wife seemed the easiest way to accomplish all that. Sorry I didn't have a chance to ask you about it first. Or propose properly," she added with a grin.

He opened his mouth, a puzzled look on his face, then closed it and rolled to his side to face her, his head pillowed on one arm while he continued to watch her while he mulled over something.

"You do realize that if we were in any country other than Rivain, it is unlikely that your lie would have been given any credence?"

It was her turn to look puzzled. She frowned and shook her head. "Why ever not? I don't think we really look that strange as a couple. In fact, I would go so far as to say that we look quite well together. I bet we would even have very pretty children." She reached out and stroked the olive skin on his bare arm, admiring how much it had darkened with all the time he had spent in the sun during their trip from Minrathous, then sighed, looking at her pale, Ferelden skin and remembering how she had been forced to take steps to hide from the same sun to keep from burning to a lobster-colored crisp.

Fenris stared at her, fully incredulous. "Are you really this _blind_ \- - or naïve? I am an elf, to say nothing of my life as a slave. Your kind do not marry my kind."

She gave an amused chuckle. "What is all this 'your kind, my kind' business? It's not like I'm a bronto and you're a mabari, for Maker's sake. We're both just people, Fenris. Where's the strangeness in that?"

He scoffed. "You really do believe this fantasy you've concocted! Then allow me to enlighten you… there is _no_ such future in store for us, Aurah. At best, I will be the dirty secret you take to your bed for amusement, your _pet,_ not unlike Danarius. Grow up and face the reality of the world we live in, and accept that's just the way things are." He rolled over and gave her his back, his shoulders stiff and tense.

She sat up and stared down at him, anger and sadness warring for dominance inside her that such a special, gifted person as Fenris thought so little of himself, and felt hot rage at Danarius and all the others like him who rose to status and privilege on the backs of others.

"If that is the way of the world, it's wrong," she said quietly. "And if I have to spend the rest of my life fighting against those ideas, I will. To passively accept them is to condone them, and I will never condone a way of thinking that believes in anything less than equal treatment and respect for the individual person, regardless of what kind of body we wear." She reached out and rested her hand on his tense arm.

"You are a person of _worth_ , Fenris. You have value, and I don't mean as a commodity for sale, you belong entirely to yourself. There are so many wonderful things about you, and one day I promise I will make you see it. It's the truth, and truth is stronger than all the lies you've been told."

Aurah squeezed his arm a final time and laid down again, turning to face him, but not wrapping her arms around him and pressing close as she wanted to, but instead, respecting that he didn't like to be touched when he was angry. He had accused her of coddling him in the past, and he resented it. Closing her eyes, she ached for all the hurt done to him during his life, wishing there were a sure way to heal it, but afraid that some wounds went too deep. All she knew to do was love him and accept him the way he was, and hope that in time, he would find his own way to reach a measure of peace.

* * *

Fenris laid completely still while Aurah's words, spoken with such conviction, chased around and around in his head like circling birds. The cynical, angry part of him once again declared her a fool. A silly child believing that if she wished something hard enough, it would come to pass, but knowing how dangerous such a belief was. How much more it would hurt when her cherished wish was destroyed and all her hopes dashed. What then, when life ruthlessly smashed her tightly held dreams? Would she be strong enough to endure, or would it decimate all the things that made her who she was?

He turned to face her, knowing from her calm, even breathing that she had been asleep for some time, looking at her familiar features in repose, and focused on the tracks her tears had made down her face. He caught one that hadn't dried on his thumb and pressed it to his lips. He had smelled her tears, and knew that she cried for him, as she had so many times in the past, her capacity for empathy greater than he had ever thought possible in a person. She cried tears for his pain that he had never bothered to cry for himself.

At first, he had found it strange when he realized her tears were not for herself, but for him, yet as he came to know her it made sense. She felt everything so deeply and intensely, and even normal emotions for her seemed magnified and larger than life. So much about her still puzzled him, but this he understood, and a part of him was grateful, when mysteriously her tears seemed to grant him some release from his rage. Her sorrow leached it from him, like drawing poison from a festering wound, every drop of salty liquid from her eyes a silent declaration of his importance to her.

He sighed with regret, sorry he had been cruel to her earlier, cutting her with his words and denying her the touch he knew she craved from him. He couldn't always control his anger or how it made him lash out against her, but she had respected the distance he demanded when he was caught up in his hate, and he valued that more than words could ever express.

Pulling her into his arms, he felt relief and contentment settle into his bones when she sighed and pressed closer to him instinctively in her unconscious state, warm and soft. He decided he would not waste any more time worrying about the uncertain future when he had the assurance of something precious at that moment. Breathing in her familiar scent, he closed his eyes at last and welcomed sleep.

* * *

~o~


End file.
